


No Place But Here

by saucyminx



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-19
Updated: 2011-12-19
Packaged: 2017-10-27 13:44:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 49,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/296479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saucyminx/pseuds/saucyminx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An accident on a camping trip leaves Dean under Sam's watchful eye. Dean's injuries are serious enough that he needs to remain in Sam's cabin while he heals. While they discover how different they are, they discover feelings for one another.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The first thing Dean became aware of upon opening his eyes was _pain_. Not at all a pleasant way to wake up. Blinking slowly Dean stared up at wooden panels along the ceiling. It didn't make sense, being here in this room, because Dean was fairly positive he had been camping with his friends in the middle of the forest just that morning. They had been hiking, Dean remembered that much at least.

Pushing up from the mattress, Dean scowled and lifted his palm to his temple, mind spinning as the world tilted unsteadily beneath him.

"Fuck," he hissed as his lower body shifted on the sheets, slipping out from a thin blanket, revealing a splint fashioned from planks and rope around his left leg. _Damn_ his leg was radiating pain up his body in slow twists. Leaning against the wall Dean blew out a slow breath and looked around the small room his bed was in.

There wasn't much, a wooden chair that looked crooked, as if homemade. A small table beside it, a bowl on top. It was completely silent, outside the faint chatter of birds barely penetrating the wooden logs making up the walls.

There was no window in the room but the floor was splashed with the faint light from the room beyond his own. If the pain in his body hadn't been so intense Dean might have started to panic slightly because _seriously_ waking up in a cabin in the middle of the Ozark without a person in sight? More than a little disturbing.

Dean swallowed roughly, throat sore and dry. A harsh cough shook his lungs, causing him to wince a moment later as pain radiated from his rib cage. Great, he'd probably broken his ribs too. Fan- _fucking_ -tastic.

Lifting a hand to touch a stinging cut along his eyebrow, Dean searched his memory to try and make sense of this scenario. They'd been traveling along the edge of a cliff, heading up the mountain, and Dean had just been pointing out how much a fall like that would suck. Then something had shifted beneath his foot, and Leslie had screamed, then everything went black.

Until he woke up.

Something creaked in the distance and Dean's eyes shot up to the door, heart racing in his chest. So the facts stood that Dean had slipped, taken a pretty nasty fall, and now he was in some cabin about to meet his rescuer. Dean just hoped he wasn't some crazy hillbilly who was going to chop him up and eat him for dinner. Or something.

-=-=-=-

Sam blinked a few times peering around the door frame from where he was standing. Tilting his head to the side he watched the other man carefully, watching him wake up. The man looked like he was in pain, confused - of course - Sam had brought him here while he was unconscious.

His long fingers curled around the door frame and he rested his cheek against his hand. The man in the bed was tall, although not as tall as Sam and he looked strong. Sam had spent a few stolen moments in the morning staring at the freckles that were dabbed across his sun-browned cheeks.

Sam had been glad that the man was unconcious when he'd moved him to the cabin. It had been a difficult trip. Sam had carried him over a mile and then fashioned a kind of litter out of some red oak branches and pulled him the rest of the way. It had taken the better part of twenty-four hours and Sam had been exhausted when they'd finally reached the cabin. He'd reset the break in the man's leg, splinted it just like his Dad's first aid book showed to do.

Watching as the dazed green eyes moved across to the doorway, Sam stepped into the room.

The man who stepped into the doorway was not anything close to what Dean would have imagined. He was impossibly tall, almost touching the door frame, shoulders broad, arms defined by the strong curves of muscles. Dean swallowed deeply, taking in the tanned glistened flesh of his chest, six-pack clearly defined. _Jesus Christ_ Dean had been rescued by some greek god hillbilly in the middle of the Ozarks.

Clearing his throat around the lingering roughness, Dean blinked a few times and shifted on the mattress, "Uh... hello." The words sounded strained even to his own ears and Dean rubbed his fingers against his throat.

Tilting his chin up in a greeting, Sam moved slowly to the side of the bed and held out a glass. "Drink," he murmured keeping a careful eye on the stranger. His eyes were kind but that didn't mean he was going to be entirely understanding about his situation. If Sam's father had taught him anything it was that most of the people in the world were far from trustworthy.

Dean took the glass gratefully and brought it to his lips, draining the cool water in several long gulps. His eyes lifted up once more as he offered the glass back to the stranger, taking in his almost shoulder length brown hair that fell in slight waves and guarded hazel eyes that watched him curiously. Dean didn't know where to begin so he said softly, "Thank you. I... did you do this?" He gestured down to the splint on his leg.

Nodding, Sam took the glass and stepped back. "You in pain?"

Sam set the glass carefully on the shelf beside him and moved down the bed to slip the cover back and peer at the man's leg. It was still badly swollen but the wounds were clean and didn’t look infected. Dad's second rule; infection can kill you when you're alone.

"Yes," Dean nodded slowly, watching the man's fingers curl around the blanket. "I'm Dean," he offered, unsettled by the situation as a whole. It definitely wasn't every day you woke up in the middle of nowhere and found a guy like _this_. "Um, who are you?"

Reaching up to wind his hair around his finger Sam glanced up at him. _Dean_. The name suited him somehow. "I'm ... Sam." Turning quickly he left the room and moved across to the woodstove. It wasn't quite cool enough yet to have it on but he'd needed to boil the prickly pear that he'd cut to make into a tea. It was stronger than he usually made but he was hoping the intoxicating effect would ease the man's pain and possibly make him sleep longer. Grabbing a rag he pulled the cast iron pot off the stove and poured the opaque liquid through a strainer into some honey. Grabbing a jar of dried willow he pulled some out and ground it up with the pestle then stirred it into the tea. Hands curled around the heavy mug he moved back into the bedroom and held it out to _Dean_. "It will make the pain better...." he held it out further, urging Dean to take it, "and help you heal."

Taking the mug slowly, Dean eyed the contents before looking up. "Thank you, Sam," he said softly, testing out the name before bringing the mug up to his lips for an experimental sniff. Dean was fairly certain it smelled sweet but he couldn't decipher all the different aromas.

Looking back up at Sam he let his lips press to the rim and sip. It wasn't like anything he'd ever tasted, earthy and sweet, the hint of honey, a mixture of _new_ across his tongue. Taking another small sip Dean smiled softly and considered Sam. "I really appreciate what you've done but um... do you have a phone or something? I should probably call my friends and let them know I'm alive..." Something hummed pleasantly through him as Dean trailed off with another long drink from the mug. Already he was feeling a little more relaxed, the pain dulling.

Shaking his head Sam shrugged a shoulder. "No... no phone." His fingers curled around a piece of hair again, twisting it nervously. "I brought you ... a long way." Sam's back muscles were still aching even though it was well over a day ago.

"They won't find us here." It wasn't a threat, it was merely a statement but Sam saw the shadow of fear darken Dean's face.

Swallowing another large mouthful of tea, Dean blinked slowly. "Um... okay," he murmured and looked around the room once more. Everything was blurring slightly around the edges and Dean felt a distinct, sharp jab of panic rise in him. Great, he'd been drugged by a sexy greek god hillbilly man who had him trapped in some cabin in the middle of nowhere. "You're not gonna kill me are you?" He asked quietly, hating that his words sounded slightly slurred.

"No." Sam smiled and stepped forward to grab the mug as it started to tip in Dean's hands. Putting the mug on the shelf beside the glass Sam reached down, hesitated, then smoothed Dean's hair back from his forehead. "I'm not going to hurt you," he rubbed his thumb over the man's temple gently, careful to avoid the cuts on his face. "I helped you."

Leaning into the warm, calloused fingers, Dean hummed softly, "Yeah, suppose you did." His body was tingling slightly now, the pain almost completely gone. Shifting along the wall Dean slid back until he could once more stretch out along the mattress. It wasn't like a usual bed, Dean couldn't pinpoint what the difference was but it certainly wasn't normal. "You... you live here alone?" Dean asked softly, eyes fluttering.

Nodding again Sam smiled and sat down on the edge of the bed. "Just me. I have a raccoon that lives here too, he won't bite you though." Dean's hair was smooth and soft under his fingers and Sam liked the way it had smelled when he'd found him. Sweet somehow, like vanilla or something but a weaker scent.

"When you are better, I'll take you as far as the nearest road and you can go home." He sighed, watching as Dean struggled to stay awake then pulled his hand away and tucked the blanket back up over Dean's chest.

"Kay..." Dean swallowed a few times and let his eyes drift closed.

-=-=-=-

It was odd - having another body in the cabin again after so long. Sam hadn't seen another human being since his father had died three years prior. Before that - there had been only the occasional person as Sam grew up. Bobby he'd seen a few times over the years but he'd stopped coming long before Sam's father had died. John and Bobby hadn't always seen eye-to-eye on things and Bobby had seemed to think that Sam should have gone back to town with him. John wouldn't allow it.

Wandering back out into the main room Sam started to make some soup. Dean would need some good nutritious food if he was going to heal. It was unlikely that anyone would find them. There was very dense forest, muskeg and _one_ safe passage through the lower part of the mountain - the searchers could be looking for months before they found any sign of Dean. They certainly wouldn't think to look higher in elevation either - assuming that Dean, if he were able, would have traveled down the mountainside.. Sam would be safe and when Dean was mobile again he would get him through the worst of the traveling and set him on his way back to _his_ world.

Yanking up a trap door in the floor Sam kneeled down and reached in to grab a mason jar full of soup stock then flipped the door down again. He'd spent his entire life learning how to prepare food, cultivate what he needed to survive, cook, fix things, build what he might want. That _was_ Sam's entire life. _Surviving_ day to day.

Spooning some of the stock into a large ceramic pot Sam set it aside and reached for a container of water. He had some vegetables to throw in and some quail he would roast for Dean later. Once the soup was started Sam cleaned up the mess and moved to the front porch of the cabin. He needed enough water to heat up to wash Dean's wounds again. Sam would remember to explain the rules to Dean later, the rules that had kept him alive his entire life.

It took Sam a few hours to get his water hauled for the next few days and he built a fire in the pit that was a short walk from the cabin, started the Quail cooking and the water heating. He'd been away for a while and realized he'd completely forgotten about Dean as he worked. It was the way of things there - routine. Striding back up the steep slope to the cabin Sam grabbed a cloth and wiped the sweat off his face as he wandered around the corner into the bedroom to find Dean slowly waking up. "How are you feeling?"

Dean groaned softly as he tentatively stretched his muscles, testing the limits of his pain. "A little better," he said quietly and looked up toward Sam. There was a lingering fine sheen of sweet on his skin, working it's way along the grooves of flesh. Dean swallowed thickly. He could just imagine licking that sweat off, which was totally an inappropriate thought to be having at this point in time. Pushing up until he was slightly sitting, Dean leaned into the wall and exhaled slowly, "I uh... need to go to the bathroom."

Sam stared at him for a moment, "You just gotta piss?" Leaning against the doorframe he stared over at Dean wiping the cloth across his chest.

"Uh, yeah," Dean nodded, surprised that the word made a flush of embarrassment rise up in him. It was likely the fact that they came from different worlds, completely, one hundred percent different. Pushing to the edge of the mattress Dean struggled to stand, pain stinging along his ribs.

"Stay..." Sam was across the room quickly taking Dean by the shoulders and holding him back from putting weight on his leg. "You can't stand on your leg."

Wrapping an arm around Dean's shoulder he made sure he was stable, "You sit here for a minute." He moved away slowly, taking a few steps back then turned and opened the wooden trunk in the corner and pulled out a stainless steel urinal. Back at Dean's side he handed it to him. "Here, can you ... manage?" Nervous, he held Dean's shoulder again.

"Oh um... yeah, I should be able to," Dean flushed and looked away, reaching up to take the urinal. He waited until Sam left the room before shifting around on the mattress, tugging down at his pants. It definitely wasn't easy work but there was no _way_ Dean was asking for Sam's help in this situation. There were just some lines that shouldn't be crossed. Once he'd managed to empty his bladder Dean dragged his pants back up and awkwardly set the urinal to the side.

"Um..." Dean cleared his throat once more and looked up toward the door. Not seeing Sam he called a little louder, "I'm done now."

Striding back into the room Sam picked the urinal up and took it outside to the outhouse to empty it. It was going to be a while before Dean was able to make the trip himself; it was a good thing that Sam had spent so much time taking care of his father while he was ill. While he was ... _dying_. Sam rolled his shoulders and tried to shake off the sadness. He'd been alone for so long.

Back at the cabin in a few minutes Sam peered around the door frame into the bedroom. "Want to wash?" Tilting his head slightly he watched Dean's face for signs of returning pain.

"Oh..." Dean rolled the muscles along his back, frowning at the pull along his ribs. "I uh, not sure I'm up for it right now," he wet his lips slowly and looked around the room. The idea of being stuck in here for weeks until he could walk wasn't really appealing. "Is there any... food?"

"I'll bring you some soup and then I'll wash you." Sam moved out of the room quickly returning a few moments later with a mug full of soup and some of the meat he'd already pulled off the quail. "Here, eat..." he handed the mug to Dean waiting until he took it and put the small plate of meat beside him on the bed.

"Thank you," Dean's lips tilted up in a slight smile as he brought the mug forward. It seemed Sam was very eager to please, which made Dean wonder even more about him and his mysterious circumstances. After a few long drinks he let the mug rest warmly between his fingers and looked up at Sam, "Do... you want to eat something? You could sit in here with me?" Dean shifted the mug in his grip to reach out for the meat, lifting a piece and taking an experimental bite. It was surprisingly good, seasoned with a mixture of things Dean couldn't pinpoint.

"I ate." Sam waved his hand vaguely at the other room. "You slept a long time." A shy smiled moved onto his lips, "Do you need anything else?"

Sam moved the blanket off Dean's leg slowly. Dragging the pads of his fingers down Dean's shin he checked to make sure the bone was still lined up and the skin felt warm.

"I'm okay," Dean said softly, watching Sam's fingers slide down his skin. "Thank you again. You didn't have to do all this to help me." A small smile played across his lips as he popped a piece of meat into his mouth and chewed. "So how long have you been living out here?"

Sam's eyes stayed on the cuts on Dean's leg for a few moments then he glanced up at the man's face, "My whole life."

Moving across the room swiftly he returned with a small bottle of willow oil and a clean cloth. Dabbing some of the oil on to a corner of the cloth he rubbed it over the cuts and bruises gently. "Let me know if I hurt you."

The only person he'd spent time with, his father, was a really quiet man. Sam wasn't used to answering questions, conversation for the sake of conversation. It was strange. Not unpleasant - but strange. Resting his hand on Dean's shin he looked up and smiled. "Does that soup taste alright? I made it the way I like it."

"It's really good." Dean nodded, curling his fingers around the mug again to sip from it. _Whole life._ Dean could hardly stand camping in the forest for a full weekend without the usual comforts of home, to _never_ have them...

"You... you haven't always lived here alone right? I mean, well clearly as a child you couldn't..." Dean chuckled softly and glanced at Sam. "You weren't raised by wolves or something right?"

Blinking, Sam frowned. "No, I was raised by my Dad." Walking over to the shelf Sam put the small bottle away. "He died a .. a few years ago."

Sam wasn't entirely sure how much time had passed but he knew it had been three winters alone. "I took care of him here until..." he waved the rest of the thought aside. He'd never spoken about his father's death and the words seemed completely foreign on his tongue.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Dean watched Sam with sad eyes. He felt pretty damn shitty for even bringing it up, wanting to smack himself in the head for even suggesting that Sam grew up all alone here.

Of course his curiosity was sparked and he wanted to know all about Sam and this mysterious world outside everything he knew but Dean was beginning to get the feeling Sam didn't talk about himself often. Which was a pretty big _duh_ when he thought about it. Apparently the fall knocked away some valuable brain cells in Dean as well of damaging his body.

"Hey, did you find a bag with me? By my body?" Dean perked up at the thought. His bag wasn't going to fix everything but it at least had some of the essentials that would help Dean feel more comfortable.

Bending over Sam reached under the bed and pulled out Dean's day pack. "Here, I didn't look in it." Sam left it on the bed. "Are you finished eating?" He wanted to clean Dean up, get rid of the rest of the blood from around his wounds so that they stayed free of infection.

"Oh, um," Dean glanced at the meat and picked up the last few pieces, popping them quickly into his mouth before draining the rest of the soup. The food felt warm and pleasant in his system and counteracted the pain.

"Yeah, thanks, here you go." Dean offered the plate and mug, feeling the urge to say thank you once more though he already had so many times in the last few minutes.

Leaving the room without a word, Sam washed up the plate and mug. The soup could be kept simmering for the rest of the day and Dean could eat whenever he was hungry. Pouring some water into a bucket from the cast iron pot Sam added a bit of cold from the pitcher and grabbed another clean cloth before returning to Dean's bedside. "I need to clean you ... your wounds."

Sam blinked his eyes rapidly, unaccustomed to feeling uncomfortable. He didn't seem to know what to say to Dean, how to word things the right way.

"Okay," Dean shifted on the bed, glancing down at himself to see where all the wounds were. It was hard to pin point when his whole body was aching almost everywhere. "Should I lay down?" He asked softly, looking up at Sam. _God_ the guy was really gorgeous, in that special sort of way where he didn't seem to realize he was. It was like an innocent beauty. It was really no wonder Dean trusted him, Sam had the type of face that you instinctively trusted.

"Just a minute, I don't want to turn you." Sitting on the edge of the bed Sam dipped the cloth in the bucket and looked at Dean through the hair that had fallen over his eyes. "Lean into me." Holding his arm out Sam pulled gently on Dean's shoulder guiding him forward to rest against his chest. "Don't try and hold yourself up - I think your ribs might be cracked, just relax against me."

Dean swallowed and sank into Sam's chest, leaning heavily against him, arm curling around his shoulder. It stung along his chest, causing him to suck in a quick breath, but feeling the heat of Sam's strong muscles against him kind of made up for the pain. "You smell good," Dean said softly, flushing slightly at the words that slipped past his lips out of his control. But Sam _did_ smell good. All earthy and musky and a little intoxicating.

Rubbing the cloth gently over Dean's back Sam washed him as quickly as he could without hurting him. "You smell good too," he turned his face quite naturally into Dean's hair. "Your hair smells... I've never smelled that before."

Taking a deep breath he buried his nose in the soft curls behind Dean's ear. "It's fading," he murmured, still rubbing the cloth over Dean's back. Holding the man up against his chest was causing a bit of a tempest to flare up inside Sam. It felt good to touch someone else, but the strange sensations were stirring up unusual feelings in Sam.

Surprised by the tingle of heat through him, Dean swallowed thickly and curled his fingers into Sam's back, wetting his lips. "It's uh... my shampoo. Vanilla something or other," he murmured, shifting slightly on the bed to adjust the faint arousal crawling through him. Dean wasn't one hundred percent sure about things regarding this man but he had a hunch he was unaware of how much those little touches were affecting him. "I... have some in my bag. I read a brochure that said, that said the smell might attract animals," he explained, stumbling over his words slightly.

"I like it but it does smell like something you could eat." Sam ran his free hand over Dean's hair hoping to stir up the smell again, sighed, and finished washing his shoulders. "Okay," his long fingers curled around the back of Dean's neck, "straight back to the mattress," he ordered.

"Uh huh," Dean shifted back on the bed laying out with the guide of Sam's hands. "Thank you for doing this," he said again, staring up at Sam's form. "I know you don't have to. You could have left me at the bottom of that cliff."

"You would have been dead when they found you," he shrugged, "or a bear ..." he mumbled the last word as he tugged the covers down, dipped the cloth once more then wiped it over Dean's broad chest. As his moved the cloth too near one of the deeper cuts Dean winced; Sam pulled the cloth back and leaned forward to blow on the cut. "Sorry, the oil in the water will sting a little." He blew on the cut some more then glanced up at Dean. "Better?"

Dean blinked owlishly at Sam, the pain instantly gave way to a tingling wave of pleasure from Sam’s warm breath along his skin. "What?" He stared at the man for a minute before dropping his head and chuckling, "yeah, better. I... yeah."

Dean could feel the arousal in him build up and he frowned softly. Pretty soon Sam was going to notice his semi-hard-on which was pretty awkward. "Have you ever done this before? Saved some one from being eaten by bears?" He chuckled softly to ease the tension in his body.

"No," Sam frowned, "I've only seen Bobby and he doesn't come here anymore." Sam smiled and looked up at Dean's face, "You're unusual." Curling his fingers over the waistband of Dean's hiking pants Sam pulled them down and wiped the cloth low across the man's abs. "Where are you from? Far away?"

Clamping down on his bottom lip for a moment, Dean's mind zeroed in on the touch low on his body. "Um..." he was really having a difficult time conversing with this man which seemed pretty ironic in the grand scheme of things. If anyone had an excuse to be a big fumbling idiot it was Sam, not him. "I'm from Texas, or, that's where I live now. I'm out here visiting some friends, who thought camping was a _smart_ idea," Dean blew out a long breath and fought against the urge to arch his hips up into touch for more. He continued to tell himself that it was unlikely Sam had any idea how the touch was affecting him.

"Camping is dangerous for most people. They don't know what they're doing. It's all one big world, everything relies on everything else. People come out here and they affect the way things are, upset the balance." His eyes darted up to Dean's and he blew out a breath realizing he was talking too much. Pushing up from the bed Sam dropped the cloth in the bucket. "Let's get your pants off and I can wash them."

Swallowing once more Dean considered Sam before dropping his hands to his waistband. "This was my first time, camping that is," Dean said softly, hips shifting up slightly to drag over his hips. At this angle he could half cover his tented boxers and Sam would be none the wiser. "Guess it didn't turn out too well," he murmured softly and blew out a low, slightly painful breath as he dropped back on the mattress.

"Try not to use your muscles so much, let me help you more." Sliding his arm under the small of Dean's back Sam leaned forward and using sheer muscle power lifted the man's hips enough to slide his pants the rest of the way down. He lowered Dean back onto the bed gently.

"Okay?" Resting his hand on Dean's waist he looked up and smiled. At least Dean wasn't fighting Sam while he tried to help - he'd been a little worried about that at first. He was reminded of all his father's stories about how paranoid city people were. How they thought that people were all out to get them.

Dean considered Sam for along moment, acutely aware of how his boxers did very little to hide anything from Sam. On most occasions Dean could judge a person, determine how they might react to the news Dean was about to deliver Sam, but it was impossible to know the outcome of this. Sam wasn't like anyone else, clearly, and Dean was still trying to decide if this was a good or bad thing. "Sam, I... I think you should know something about me, to be fair. So uh, you can be wise about the way you touch... me... and stuff." Face heating at the words Dean looked to the side and blew out another long breath. "I'm gay."

Sam blinked and leaned down to pick up the cloth. "You like to have relationships with men." He slid the cloth over Dean's left thigh, leaning closer and wincing as he had to dab at a rather nasty looking cut.

Before John had died he had always answered Sam's unending stream of questions. Looking back, Sam couldn't remember how it had come up but he remembered John telling him that some people chose to be with people of the opposite gender, some chose the same. "I don't have relationships ... well, I've never had one." His hand froze for a moment and he looked up again. "Am I bothering you by touching you? I can stop, I'm really just trying to help." And, he actually _liked_ touching another warm body. Sam had liked watching Dean while he slept, his face was nice - like he belonged in some of the books that Sam had.

"I wouldn't exactly say _bother_ ," Dean mumbled, and pursed his lips. "It's uh... obviously... _affecting_ me though and well, you know, you keep touching..." Dean lifted his head to stare at Sam, tucking an arm under his head. "I just thought you should know. I'm not gonna jump on you or anything like that, clearly. Broken ribs and all. God, I should just shut up," Dean groaned softly and closed his eyes. Nothing like being a babbling idiot while some gorgeous guy was bathing his thighs.

"Oh." Sam stopped for a moment. "You mean it feels good." Moving to Dean's other thigh Sam wiped at the rest of the dried blood. "My Dad said that most people don't say what they think. I say what I think." Sam smiled and brushed his hair back from his face with his forearm. "By the way, you couldn't jump me - you're not nearly strong enough even without injuries." Standing once more he moved down to lift Dean's pant leg over the splint and remove them completely. "I"ll wash them with my clothes. Do you have more clothes in your bag that you want to put on?" Sam peer curiously up at Dean's backpack. "Do you have other things in there I can smell?"

Dean stared at Sam for a long moment. Definitely wasn't how most people would react given the information Dean had just provided him. "Um, yes, I believe I do," Dean rolled slightly to tug his bag close, pulling at the zipper. Sorting around he pulled out a pair of jeans, two shirts and a pair of boxers. "I'd appreciate it... if you could wash these," Dean smiled at him for a moment before looking back in the bag. A few moments later he tugged out his bottle of cologne, his shampoo, and his after shave. "You might like the smell of these."

Grabbing the shampoo Sam fumbled with the bottle for a few moments then managed to flip the top open. "That's the smell in your hair," he sniffed at it again, "but it smells nice mixed with your smell." His eye watered a little when he lifted the glass bottle of cologne up to his face. It was a tiny bottle, fit into the palm of his hand and even though Sam couldn't think of a practical use for something that small the colored glass was beautiful. He held it up to the light coming through the window.

"You smell nicer than this does." He dropped the two glass bottles back into the bag and held on to the shampoo, "can I have some?" He smiled shyly then his eyes brightened. "You said I smelled good, smell my hair." Hands on either side of Dean's chest he lowered himself down careful not to put any weight on Dean's body.

 _Jesus Christ_ this guy really had no idea about physical closeness and how it could affect a person. Inhaling sharply Dean pulled in Sam's smell and swallowed around the heat stirring up in him, "You uh, you smell good. I don't think you really need shampoo but if you want to use it you can." Dean lifted up slightly, burying his nose in Sam's hair for a moment before turning his face to let his nose slide along Sam's cheek. Every part of him did smell amazing and Dean drank in the smell, enjoying the way it filled his senses. "Do you use anything as shampoo now?"

Sam tucked his cheek to his shoulder, surprised at the way it felt when Dean's nose touching his cheek. He pulled back quickly, "I sometimes ... sometimes I use crushed up geranium in the water. It's good for skin." Licking his lips nervously, unsettled by the way his heart was suddenly racing he pushed up from the bed and yanked the blanket back up over Dean. "If you're okay I should go somewhere else for a while." He took a few steps backwards then remembered the bucket and darted forward to pick it up. "If you need something ... call me." He walked out of the room and took a deep breath once he was in the hallway and dropped back to lean against the wall. He'd been alone too long.

For awhile Dean simply stared at the door, wondering what had caused Sam to turn tail and run like that. Then he realized touching his lips so close to Sam's cheek was pretty damn stupid. Apparently Dean wasn't in his right mind or something, he was doing a really good job of making a fool out of himself. Sighing softly Dean shifted on the bed to roll on his side.

Over the next few hours Dean dozed on and off, letting himself drift off when the pain threatened to be too overwhelming to be tolerable. At some point he was aware of Sam walking quietly and setting another glass of water by him on the small table but otherwise he didn't see much of the man. The sun set in between his naps and Dean had a brief moment of panic when he woke in the pitch dark, steadying himself before he shot up out of pain and caused more damage to himself.

It took longer to fall back to sleep after waking with such a start and Dean stared into the darkness until his eyes adjusted enough to feel comfortable. Shifting slightly, Dean was relieved to find the urinal close enough to reach and use, though he felt beyond awkward leaving it sitting on the floor after he'd done his business. He wondered what the rest of the cabin looked like, where Sam slept, whether the forest outside his home looked any different from the rest of the giant expanse of woods.

At some point Dean drifted off to sleep again and didn't wake again until sunlight was once more pouring into the open door of his room. Dean felt a lot better now than he had the day before, though the pain in his chest and leg were still very present.

Sighing softly Dean shifted up on the mattress and tugged on his backpack, pulling it open to look over the inside contents. Some snack foods for the hike, a book, his cell phone - which wouldn't even turn on - a bottle of old water, his watch. It all seemed pretty trivial. Even his wallet was useless in a place like this. Opening his wallet Dean pulled out the picture of his family, scratching along his forehead as he stared down at their familiar features and considered them silently.

"Hello," Sam peered around the door frame, "can I come in?"

He'd spent most of the night sleeping just outside the door in case Dean needed him but the man had barely made a sound. It had been a long night. Sam had thought over all the things that Dean had told him and decided that he should stay away, give the man a bit of space and let him heal in peace. He certainly didn't want to make the only person who had ever been here uncomfortable.

"Please do," Dean looked up and smiled up at Sam, repositioning on the mattress. "I was... just looking at my family," Dean held out the picture. "My mom, dad, little sister. I was thinking... about whether they'd heard yet. It's been a couple days?" He asked softly, looking at Sam with curious eyes.

Sam nodded and took the photo. Staring at it for a long while he smiled. "They look nice, your sister has pretty hair." He held the picture out for Dean and froze. "You have a book."

Stepping closer as Dean took the photo back Sam leaned closer. "Can I read it?" Sam had read every book in the cabin so many times he almost had them all memorized. Curiosity got the better of him and his idea to keep his distance from Dean and he settled back down on the edge of the bed. Reaching out he picked up one of the snack bars, "What's this?"

Dean couldn't help smiling, tucking the photo back into his wallet and resolving to speak to his parents again once he was home. Or try to talk to them. He could only do so much. "Those are granola bars. Would you like to try one?" He nodded at Sam, urging him to continue as he pulled the book out. "This is” The Da Vinci Code”, by Dan Brown... I uh... I'm assuming you haven't read it. So by all means, feel free," he held it out as well, watching the man.

Grinning Sam tucked the book under his arm, "I'll be very careful with it." He tore open the granola bar and sniffed it. It smelled very sweet. Breaking off a piece he held it up to Dean's lips, smiling. "You first..." He wanted to make sure that Dean kept eating while he was healing.

Eyes locking on Sam's features Dean took in a deep breath before leaning forward slightly and opening his mouth. The sweet granola sparked taste across his tongue, mixed with the faint salt from Sam's flesh. Chewing slowly Dean watched Sam, trying to determine if the flick of his tongue along the pad of Sam's finger had any affect on the man. "Thank you," he said quietly, dropping his gaze.

As he watched his own fingers near Dean's lips Sam could feel that strange heat building in him again. He shivered like he was cold which didn't make any sense and rubbed at the goosebumps on his arm. Laughing softly he looked away for a few moments, embarrassed. "I like your lips," he murmured eyes looking everywhere but at Dean. The man's lips were the color of crushed berries, wider than Sam's own lips and more full.

Swallowing past his discomfort Sam shifted back a little and pulled off another piece of the sticky bar. Sniffing it once more he popped it into his mouth; the taste was overpowering and he let his hand fall to Dean's chest. It was sweet, chewy and his eyes widened in pleasure; he had tasted things sweetened with honey and the mostly earthy sweet of dandelion wine but nothing like this. "S’good," he mumbled as he chewed, fingers curling against Dean's chest.

"Yeah," Dean nodded, glancing down at the fingers on his chest before looking back up Sam. "It's supposed to be healthy for you, but it's packed full of sugars and such..." Dean shrugged gently, wincing at the slight pain. "Do you think... could I get out of this bed for awhile? Not that it's not comfortable, I just... you know, two days stuck in the same place wears on you," he smiled tentatively at Sam, urging him with a wave of his hand to continue eating the granola bar.

Munching away on the granola bar Sam nodded. "Would you like to sit by the stove this evening? It's going to be cooler, I can smell it outside." Saving the last piece of granola bar for Dean Sam folded the wrapper carefully and blushed as he looked down. Very slowly he held the snack up to Dean's mouth fingers resting lightly against the other man's cheek.

Dean could really get used to Sam feeding him like this, it was certainly enjoyable. Turning into the fingers Dean opened his mouth and pulled the granola in, tongue flicking out once more to touch Sam's skin and swipe the lingering flavor from the flesh. "I would like that," he said softly, watching Sam as he chewed on the remainder of the granola. "Do I make you nervous?"

Sam ran his hand through his hair and slipped the snack bar wrapper in the pocket of his pants. "Do you want to go out there now?" His hands fiddled with the hem of his shirt as he glanced up at Dean's face.

"Sure," Dean nodded and scooted across the mattress until he could drop his legs over the edge, splint holding his damaged leg in place. Dean belatedly realized he was still only in his boxers and he glanced down at himself before looking up Sam. "Do you happen to have any sweats or something I could borrow?"

Sam slid off the bed and out of the room coming back with some very worn flannel pants and a big wool sweater. "Here," he knelt at Dean's feet and carefully slipped the splint into the flannel pants and pulled them up. "Lean on me," he held up one hand for Dean's, smiling at the feel of the other man's hand in his.

He pulled Dean up gently, "just don't put weight on your leg." As Dean stood slowly, Sam stood with him and pulled the pants up for him. Smiling down at Dean he breathed in again trying to steal some of the vanilla smell without appearing too obvious. "Do you want the sweater? I have blankets out there if you'd rather just wrap up..." It was really hard not to stare into Dean's eyes. They were the same color as the willow leaves in spring.

"Sweater works," Dean nodded, shifting back from Sam enough to help him pull the sweater on. It was soft and so worn it felt more comfortable than any clothing Dean had ever worn.  
"You're really gracious, you know," Dean said softly, leaning back into Sam's body heavily as the man continued to help him out of the room. "I'm fairly certain more than half the people in this world would have just left me at the bottom of that cliff. And you... bringing me into your home, sharing your resources, patching me up, you've definitely got some good karma coming your way."

"You said thank you, you don't have to keep thanking me." Sam smiled and kicked at his bedding as they moved out into the living room. "I was sleeping there," he muttered, "in case you wanted anything."

Dean's body felt firm against his and Sam moved his finger slowly over the side of the other man's ribs. The sweater was big on him, the pants too long and it made Sam smile. Dean looked like one of the little kids in the Christmas book. Holding Dean by the shoulders he turned him and tucked both his arms under the other mans so he could lower him onto the pillow-covered wooden bench near the stove. Leaning down over Dean Sam propped the pillows behind him then helped to raise his leg up on the bench. "Comfortable?"

"I am, thank... you," Dean looked up at Sam and laughed, head tilting back slightly. "Sorry, I guess I was raised in a really polite home or something," Dean's eyes turned around the living room curiously, scanning over the small stack of books, the random little items that Dean knew he'd have to get close to if he wanted to get a real good idea what each was used for. The cabin was comfortable, warm, _lived in_. "I like your home," Dean turned back to Sam, thinking of his own mostly empty apartment back home. A home that was hardly his any more. "You know, my friends dragged me on this trip to try and shake the funk I've been in recently, guess an extended stay in the middle of nowhere without any means of contacting them is going to give me that chance."

"Why are you in a funk?" Sam paced over to the stove and pried the top open long enough to put another log inside then stirred the tea the was steeping there. Watching Dean out of the corner of his eye he could see how curious Dean was; he watched the man's eyes move over almost everything in the cabin. Sam knew that his home must be very different from what Dean was used to. Fixing Dean a cup of dandelion tea with lots of honey Sam brought it back to him and dropped to the floor in front of the bench to sit cross-legged.

Dean took the cup gratefully and smiled at Sam, sipping from the steaming liquid before cupping his fingers around the mug and resting his forearms on his thighs. "Well, it's been a long few years. I came out to my family a few years ago, didn't go over so well. I uh, actually haven't seen them for awhile. My parents really aren't interested in any communication. Which in the grand scheme sucks but it wasn't too bad," Dean swirled the liquid slowly in the cup, watching it move in gentle circles. "About half a year ago this guy and I broke up. We'd been together for awhile. It... fuck it was awful. Kind of lost myself for awhile. So my friends dragged me out here. And... here I am," Dean shrugged and looked at Sam. "That must sound all very trivial, huh?"

"No." Sam turned a bit and leaned his arm on the couch by Dean's hip. "I think it must be horrible to have your heart broken. I think it must really hurt," he reached his free hand up and rested it on Dean's chest. "Does it feel bad still sometimes when you think about it?" Sam really had nothing to compare it to. When his father had died he'd been sad, then scared. The thought of being alone all the time - for the rest of his life seemed overwhelming. "One day ... then another day..." he murmured.

"Yeah it still hurts sometimes, but more because of the way it ended. He cheated on me, with a close friend. So, you know, it was a lot to deal with. Especially since I'd known both guys more than half my life," Dean sighed and rubbed at his forehead before draining half the warm liquid in the cup. "But it's been awhile now and the hurt has mostly faded. I think it hits me the most when I think of something we both would have thought was funny and I go to tell him but... he's not there," Dean fixed his eyes on Sam and shrugged. "It's weird, to feel so lonely with all these people around. Guess I just put a lot of stock into that one thing and when it ended, I didn't think I had much left."

"It must be really nice to fall in love though," Sam's hand slid off Dean's chest and he sighed. Sam couldn't even conceive of that that kind of relationship would be like. Sure, he'd read all the books that his father had brought and then the ones Bobby had left on his last visit. But, in the books it nearly always ended up being something miserable and Sam's father had said love wasn't always like that - that it could be easy too.

"Yes, it can be amazing." Dean nodded slowly and considered Sam for awhile, watching the unknown play of emotions on his face. "Do you think you'll stay here forever? All alone? I mean, wouldn't you like to find a nice girl somday, settle down and have kids?"

Sam looked down at his fingers where they traced the pattern of the blanket. "I have no one to go to ... no family. This is my home and .. I doubt anyone would want me." He smiled up at Dean then looked away again.

"The only things I've learned is what my Dad taught me and from all the books here. I've read them all so many times. But I didn't ever go to school ... or anything." Sam remembered when he was young and reading many of the books for the first time being angry at the decisions his father had made, bringing them out into the middle of nowhere. It had seemed so unfair when he was a kid, now, Sam just viewed it as the way things were meant to work out for him. "I've never even met a girl." He shrugged, "well, not that I remember anyway. Maybe when I was a baby."

"Oh," Dean nodded, considering the room around him as he thought over Sam's words. "Well for the record I think you'd be a real catch. You're drop dead gorgeous, and you know, sweet and kind, nice, friendly," Dean chuckled and reached out to lay his hand on the man's arm, curling his fingers. "To the right person, things like education and stuff don't matter you know? I used to think there was _one_ person meant for each of us but I think that it's more there's a right type of person you know?"

Sam rubbed his fingers on the goose bumps that slid up his arm from where Dean's fingers touched him. "No...I don't really." Sam laughed softly and lined his fingers up with Dean's. "Do I have big hands?" He blinked a few times and looked up. "Do you get goose bumps when I touch you?" Tilting his head slightly he met Dean's gaze.

"I wouldn't really call them goose bumps," Dean smiled and let his fingers rest against Sam's. "But I definitely feel something that's not normal with most people. Something like a spark."

He turned his gaze from Sam's features to the press of their hands together. "Your hands aren't so big. For your height. I'm sure all of you is big." Dean blinked wide eyed at him, mind instantly supplying where exactly Sam would be big. It was probably a good thing Sam's mind didn't come programed that way.

"A spark," Sam echoed as he turned Dean's hand over. His long fingers ran over the lines on Dean's palm. His skin was _so_ soft. Pulling his hand back into his lap Sam rubbed at the callouses on his own hands. "You have really soft skin." Without looking up Sam stood and moved back over to the stove to warm his hands.

"I don't do nearly the type of work you have to do." Dean matched Sam's quiet tone, watching his body move gently. "I... I don't mind, you touching my skin. It's nice. It's been awhile since someone touched me without the air of sympathy behind it." He sighed softly and shifted his hand through his hair. "So what do you do during the day? Tell me about the life you lead out here."

Shrugging, Sam kept his back to Dean for a while. "I cook, fix things. There are fences around my cabin for safety... animals... I have some corn...well, not right now - but I grow things depending on the season." He walked over to the front door and latched the door then pulled a rolled up blanket across it to keep the breeze at bay.

"When I have free time I carve things..." Sam glanced over his shoulder and smiled, "would you like to see the chess set I made?"

A wide smile curved Dean's lips up and he nodded, settling on the bench. "Sure. We could play a game? I can't say I'm really good but you know, if you want." Dean shrugged and scratched along his head for a moment. "What else do you carve?"

Smiling Sam dragged another trunk across the wooden floor and kneeled down by Dean again. Flipping the trunk open he pulled out a box. It fit in the palm of Sam's hand. "I make boxes... that are like puzzles." Holding the box flat on the palm of his hand he held it up. There was a cross on the top in dark grained wood and Sam slid one arm of the cross forward then the other and twisted the lid and the box opened. "Do you like it?"

"Wow," Dean stared down at the box, reaching out to graze his fingers along the fine wood. "This is amazing Sam. Do you know how much money you could make on something like this? People love these types of things," Dean took the box, playing with the lid slowly so not to damage anything.

"Seriously. If you ever..." Dean shrugged, realizing that wasn't the type of thing Sam was after. He didn't have to worry about things like money. "Anyway, it's really awesome."

"You can have that one if you want. If you like it, I mean." Sam closed the trunk lid and left his hands resting on the lid for a few moments. "It's not much but it keeps me busy." Rolling his bottom lip under his teeth he turned and looked back up at Dean.

"You probably have lots of things you could keep in it." Gesturing to the box Sam reached his fingers up slowly and curled them over Dean's arm, thumb rubbing on the veins underneath the smooth skin of his wrist. "How are you feeling?" Staring up at Dean Sam swallowed then glanced back down at his fingers.

Dean stared into Sam's eyes, wetting his lips slowly. "Like I might kiss you though I'm sure I probably shouldn't," he whispered, body humming slightly from the touch along his sensitive skin.

"Kiss me?" Sam's eyes were wide in the dimly lit room. "I've never kissed anyone." Shaking his head he looked away, "I wouldn't even know how." His heart was racing like all the times he ran up the mountainside to the cabin only it felt different; like it was thumping harder or louder. "Can you hear my heartbeat?" Eyes darting up to Dean's for a brief moment Sam took a deep breath. He was sure Dean could hear it.

"No," Dean said softly, extending his hand to lay across Sam's chest and pressing firmly, "I can feel it though." Smiling softly despite the slight sink of his own heart, Dean withdrew his touch and let his hands fall in his lap. "It's okay, about the... you know... I won't force you into anything. I'm sure you weren't anticipating anything when you brought me here," he shrugged and looked away with a slow exhale. "But if you want to, I could probably teach you."

"You could?" Sam licked his lips and shifted a little closer, fingers clenching tighter over Dean's wrist. He could feel his cheeks getting warmer as he thought about Dean's lips. They were very soft looking and Sam was curious. Breathing a little faster he looked up. "What do I do?"

Dean turned to better face Sam and slowly reached up to touch the side of the man's face with the tips of his fingers. "Well, it's fairly simple. You want to make sure your lips are slightly damp, so wet them with your tongue. Then my head tilts one way, your head tilts the other, and we let our lips touch. Just something small, to see if you like it," Dean couldn't help his slight smile. Sam was nervous enough for the both of them; he tried to ignore his own nerves.

Licking his lips again Sam touched them lightly with his finger tips to see if they were wet, smiled again and pushed up on his knees so his face was right in front of Dean's. "Now?" Swallowing nervously he licked his lips once more.

"Yes," Dean murmured, wetting his own lips and taking a deep breath. His hand on Sam's face slid down to cup along his jaw gently, urging him forward with a small pull.

Leaning forward too quickly Sam's mouth collided with Dean's uncomfortably hard ... and still ... it sent shock-waves through his body, things he'd never experienced in his entire life. Heat raced through every part of his body, adrenaline surging through his veins. His hand hovered between them for a few moments as Dean's lips slid gently against his.

Sucking in a deep breath Sam's hand landed hard and pushed against Dean's chest, "M'sorry..." he muttered and moved back so quickly he fell over. "I said ... I wasn't... wouldn't be..." stumbling to his feet Sam whipped the blanket back from the door and fumbled with the latch for a few moments until he finally managed to yank it open. Glancing back over his shoulder he murmured, "Sorry," and slipped out the door closing it softly behind him.

Dean barely had time to process the too brief kiss before Sam was gone and he was left alone in the cabin. Reaching up slowly to touch his lips Dean couldn't help the grin that pulled up the corner of his mouth. He could almost taste Sam, just a faint whisper, but his heart was racing and he suddenly felt more than he had in months. Looking around the cabin he slowly dropped his hand and sighed. This whole thing turned out to be one unexpected circumstance after another. Kissing Sam was definitely something he wouldn't mind repeating though. If the man wasn't too shaken up at least.


	2. Chapter 2

After Sam left Dean sat alone in silence for a long time. He considered the things around him, reaching out to fiddle with the small box Sam had made until he had the way it worked down pat. His mind was constantly churning over everything he'd learned about this mysterious man so far. As a writer Dean was always drinking in information, storing away bits and pieces to use sometime. Dean felt like he could write a book about Sam which was actually a really good thing because he'd been fairly short on new ideas as of late.

As the hours passed - at least they felt like hours, with no sight of Sam - the pain in his body began to intensify and Dean twisted around on the bench to consider the distance to the room he'd been in. Deciding laying down was worth the risk Dean shifted on the bench until he could push himself up. It was incredibly hard to attempt a half hop without applying pressure to his damaged leg. He nearly fell over a dozen times and made the mistake of stepping down on his injured leg.

Pain shot through him and Dean gasped, stumbling forward as his ribs protested with sharp jolts of their own. By the time he made it to the bed all he could do was flop face down, half laying on the mattress. Dean had to suck in sharp breaths to get the pain induced haze to clear from his eyes. Apparently trying to make the trip on his own had been a very stupid idea. Groaning once more in discomfort Dean scooted forward until his entire body was on the blanket, no energy left to roll himself over.

Minutes later Dean passed out, still wondering when - or _if_ \- Sam would return.

-=-=-=-

When Sam pushed the door open he was surprised that Dean wasn't on the bench in the front room. Surprised and more than a little worried.

"Dean?" He called out louder than he thought and surprised himself then crossed the room in seconds to skid around the corner into the bedroom. Relief flooded through him when he saw Dean lying across the bed. Moving quickly he blew out a breath and stared down at the man's body. Dean was sweating, obviously in pain and Sam wasn't sure if he was sleeping or unconscious. It was stupid and thoughtless to leave him there alone and Sam was furious with himself. Hand over his mouth for a few moments he leaned over and stroked Dean's hair back from his forehead.

"Dean? Hey...." Shaking the man's shoulder gently he waited, watching Dean's lips puff out as he breathed out.

The warm voice pumped through him and Dean shifted toward it, eyes fluttering open slowly, "Hey..." Dean smiled up at Sam, wincing as he tried to roll to face him. "I think... I overdid it." He forced a chuckle and wet his chapped lips. "Glad you came back though."

"I'm sorry." Sam shook his head and frowned. "Do you want to lie on your back? I can help you." He rested his hand on Dean's back rubbing gently.

Humming softly Dean's eyes drifted closed, "No, m'good here. But you can keep doing that." He smiled into his pillow enjoying the warmth of Sam's hand on his skin.

"You're in pain," Sam's brow furrowed with worry. "I'm going to get you something for the pain and then get you tucked in to bed, you need to stay warm." He rubbed Dean's back for a few moments then left the room to get some of the cactus drink he'd given Dean when he first woke up. Setting it on the stove to warm up Sam stoked the fire again.

It was completely irresponsible of Sam to have left him here no matter how confused he was by what had happened. The truth was he'd just lost track of time, wandering, trying to figure out why his body felt the way it did, worrying about Dean thinking he was stupid or just ... some sort of backwoods idiot. He sighed and rubbed at his forehead then spun and went back into the bedroom.

"Okay,"pulling the covers down underneath Dean's body Sam slipped on to the bed beside him. "I'm going to pull you toward me,keep your body straight as you can." Sliding one arm under Dean's neck and resting it across the man's chest he reached across dean's lower back and grabbed his hip with the other. "You ready?"

"Yeah." Dean nodded and clenched his jaw as Sam moved him along the bed. His hand extended to rest on Sam's shoulder, exhaling slowly. "I'm sorry Sam, I should have waited for you but I wanted to lay down and I thought... I could do it." He sighed and looked up at Sam. "Also, about the kiss, I shouldn't have pressured you into it. I mean, it was good for me but I know it probably..." Actually Dean had no idea what it was for Sam but it clearly freaked him out and Dean was starting to feel pretty guilty about that.

Rolling back slowly Sam tugged Dean as gently as he could taking all of his weight and letting Dean fall against his chest. When Sam was all the way over on his back he was able to slide out from under Dean and pull the covers up over him. "You shouldn't move when I'm not here to help you."

Sam completely ignored the comment about the kiss - he knew Dean was just trying to make him feel better and was probably terrifed that Sam would leave him alone again. Pushing up quickly off the bed he slipped back out to the stove and prepared a drink for Dean with lots of honey. Once he had the mug on the shelf beside the bed he slid his fingers around the back of Dean's neck and pulled him up slightly. "I need you to drink," he murmured as he slid his around around Dean's shoulders and held him close. Reaching out he grabbed the mug and held it out. "Do you need help?"

"No, I'm okay," Dean said slowly and curled his fingers around the mug, bringing it to his lips. It didn't seem like Sam was very happy with him and Dean felt guilty all over again. He drained the entire contents obediently, feeling the quick rush of relief to the pain in his system. "Thanks, that help." He nodded slowly and offered the mug to Sam, sighing once more.

"I'm sorry I left you, I shouldn't have done that." Sam put the mug on the shelf and pressed Dean into his chest for a few moments. "Are you mad at me?" Sam's fingers curled and uncurled in the soft curls of hair at the nape of Dean's neck. The first time he actually met someone ... and he was making mistakes all over the place.

Dean looked up at Sam with wide eyes, feeling the pleasure of the medicine remedy working through him. "Mad...? No. No, why would I be mad? That's not..." He smiled softly and shifted down into the touch. "I thought I scared you off... kiss was far too brief." His smile shifted as the pain seemed to seep away from him. "Did I scare you off?"

"Scared myself," Sam murmured into Dean's hair. The vanilla smell was almost gone and now Dean just smelled like ... well, like himself. "You're tired...I should let you rest."

He lowered Dean back down on to the pillows stroking his fingers across his smooth cheeks. "I'm sorry I left ... I won't do that again."

"Mmkay." Dean nodded slowly, eyes already drifting closed. His hand on Sam's chest curled into the shirt for a moment. "Wanna lay with me?"

Studying Dean's face for a few moments Sam worried his bottom lip with his teeth. "Just a little while." The bed was soft and Dean was warm and Sam could feel those strange feelings swirling around him him again. Climbing over Dean carefully Sam lay beside him and turned slightly to the side so he could watch Dean as he fell asleep. His lashes were beautiful, long and dark, they almost touched his freckles in some spots. Sam smiled, making sure he didn't touch Dean in case he hurt him somehow.

"Nice," Dean murmured and shifted into him. It had been a long time since he shared a bed with someone and it did indeed feel really nice. Sam was warm and comforting and Dean reached out to lay his hand on the man's chest. He was going to say something more but the words blurred together in his mind before sleep tugged him under.

Sam watched Dean, watched his breathing slow, his lips puff out as he breathed. He watched until he was certain the Dean was asleep then he licked his lips carefully and pressed them to Dean's temple. Smiling he wrapped his arms around the other man, gentle, protective and decided he would stay ... just a little while. The problem was, he was warm and comfortable, tired and overwhelmed and just a little while was too long for him to stay awake. His eyes drifted closed even as he thought that he would just close them for five minutes. He fell asleep with the scent of vanilla in his nose and Dean's hair against his cheek.

-=-=-=-

There was only the faintest light casting a soft glow over the room when Dean woke countless hours later. It wasn't really the light he was aware of, however, more the radiating feel of heat coming from the body pressed hard into his side. The pain from before was all but gone and Dean shifted slightly, breath catching in his throat as he gazed at Sam's sleeping features. The man was really stunning. Wetting his lips slowly Dean trailed his eyes along the sharp and defined jaw line, shaggy brown hair falling across Sam’s eyes.

A small smile played across his lips as he reached out to brush the loose strands back, shifting forward to feel the gentle release of breath across his lips. Dean had _really_ bad judgment sometimes but he couldn't resist tilting his head to the side and letting his lips rest gently against Sam's. There wasn't much harm in kissing the man when he was asleep, this way Dean could at least remember the soft touch in case he never got to feel it again.

For a long moment his eyes remained closed, heart fluttering to life as his mouth remained pressed to Sam's. Then he slid back and sighed, slowly opening his eyes and finding himself staring into wide, hazel eyes. "Oh," he exhaled, dragging his tongue across his lips slowly. "Um... sorry..."

Sam blinked a few times, breath shallow and quick as he stared at Dean. "You didn't let me lick my lips first," he whispered then ran his tongue over them slowly and leaned forward. Lips partly slightly Sam took a shaky breath and let his lashes fall to his cheeks as he bumped against Dean's mouth gently. The touch was barely there, but Sam shivered a little then gasped, fighting the urge to press harder against Dean.

Curling his hands around Sam's neck, Dean tugged him in and deepened the kiss, mouth opening against Sam's. The touch had his heart racing as if Sam was sucking the air from his lungs. It was almost impossible to keep his body from turning into Sam's, chests pressing together as his lips slid along the other man's. Tongue slipping forward, Dean traced the bow of Sam's upper lip slowly, uncurling his hand from Sam's hair so the man could pull back at any time.

Sparks, electric, fiery... Sam didn't even know how to think of it. It was like his spine came alive with sensation, sending out little waves of heat and cold and so many things he forgot to breathe. Rather suddenly he gasped in a desperate breath, mouth opening wider against Dean's and his heart felt like it would stutter to a halt. His hands lay useless on the mattress above his head - not that he knew what to do with them anyway. Dean's tongue was smooth, wet and hot and Sam unconsciously chased it with his mouth, tipping his head back slightly.

"You can..." Dean gasped into the kiss, fingers tightening once more Sam's hair as his tongue swept forward. "Touch me..." he insisted as his body moved forward, tongue slipping into Sam's open mouth slowly, trailing through the man's mouth in small circles.

Even the gentle responses from Sam were enough to get his blood boiling. He'd never felt anything as amazing as this one kiss and Dean couldn't began to fathom why that was. Dean wanted to crawl on top of Sam's body, drink in every little feel and touch, but he definitely didn't want Sam running off again if he pushed the limits.

Sam felt dopey, like when he had a fever or woke from a long sleep. A low moan worked its way up through his body and startled him; he gasped in another breath of air as his shoulders curled forward slightly. All the times he'd thought about what a kiss would feel like were _so_ wrong. He could never have imagined this - his brain couldn't make up something that felt so good. His shaking hand finally settled against Dean's back and it fit perfectly there against the dip at the base of Dean's spine.

The sound of Sam's moan was enough to have Dean echoing the sentiment. With the added heat on the small of his back Dean was pressed flush against Sam's body, tongue pulling back only to thrust forward roughly once more.

It was impossible to say how long he and Sam kissed, only that the room was almost completely dark by the time Dean pulled back enough to suck in a deep breath. He felt almost dizzy from the lack of oxygen and the intensity of the kiss. "Damn..." he muttered on the exhale, eyes fluttering open to trail over Sam's kiss swollen lips and flushed features. "That was... the best kiss I've ever... had," Dean chuckled softly and dipped forward to brush his lips along Sam's once more.

Sam's lashes fluttered open, "It was better..." his fingers moved through Dean's soft hair, "than the first time. M'still here," he teased shyly.

Dean's eyes were beautiful - the green color vivid while they were this close. Sam slid his hand up Dean's back, rubbing gently. "It's night...you must be hungry."

Dean smiled at Sam, quite content to pretend he wasn't hungry at all if it meant he got to lay here with Sam longer. His stomach chose to betray him however, grumbling loudly only moments later. Dean chuckled and shifted forward to press his lips into Sam's neck, blowing out a small breath. "Yeah, I could go for some food."

"I'll get you something." Sam sat up quickly then flopped back down and pressed his lips wetly against Dean's cheek. "Don't move." He sat up again and scooted down to the bottom of the bed. "I'll be right back," he added, grinning as he tripped and almost fell out of the doorway.

Clattering about in the root cellar for a few minutes Sam returned quickly with a plate for Dean. "Okay," he said as he sank back down onto the bed and shuffled up slowly, "berries, some dried fruit, jerky made from deer meat..." Shrugging he leaned back down against the pillow and smiled, "or you could have one of your bar things, I could get that for you if you want."

"I'll take what you've got here." Dean smiled and reached out to take the jerky, testing the top with a small bite before sucking a large portion in. It was surprisingly flavorful against his palate and Dean sucked for a few minutes before biting off the piece. Glancing up at Sam he chuckled and lifted his shoulder in a gentle shrug. "It's good. You made it yourself, I'm assuming?"

Laughing softly Sam nodded. "Yeah." Sam watched while Dean finished the jerky and then picked up a berry and held it up to Dean's lips. "You should try these." His nose wrinkled as he smiled, "they're my favourite - not as sweet as your bars though.."

Pressing the berry against Dean's lips,Sam pushed it into the other man's mouth then trailed his finger along the full bottom lip. "I like your lips." He blinked a few times and smiled again. "Do you ... kiss lots of people? You're very good at it."

Dean chuckled and shook his head, rolling the taste of the berry across his tongue. "I've kissed a few people in my day. I haven't in awhile, good to know I'm not out of practice,"

Dean considered Sam quietly for a moment before dropping his gaze. "You definitely weren't bad yourself," he laughed and looked up back, "well that's an understatement. We'll have to practice, get you to touch more, and use your tongue." He grinned at Sam and opened his mouth. "More berries please."

Picking up a few more berries, Sam popped them into Dean's mouth and then picked up some for himself. "It's going to take a long time for your leg to heal." Sam stared at his hand as he moved it to rest on Dean's hip. His thumb dragged along the jut of hipbone then dipped forward to sink into the softer flesh.

"I like..." Sam's looked up at Dean from under his lashes, "the way you feel."

"Yeah?" Dean chewed on the berries in his mouth and glanced down to watch Sam's hand move along his body. "I like you touching me," he looked back up at the man and slowly wet his lips, watching the play of emotions across his face.

"How long do you think it'll take me to heal?" He asked softly, wondering why he didn't feel more panicked at the prospect of being stuck here for an undetermined amount of time. Of course Sam probably had a lot to do with it.

Sam's eyes didn't leave his hand as it moved to Dean's chest, sliding over the curves of his muscles. "You're young and healthy. I can make you some crutches so you can get around .. but if you take care of yourself....a couple of months?" Sam cringed - he couldn't imagine what it must feel like for Dean to be trapped here.

"Are you really worried? I could stay here with you until you can take care of yourself and then go for help." Sam thought about it - there had to be a way to get Dean back to his life. "Maybe I could build something to help ... something to carry you..." his thoughts moved to ideas about litters and wagons, fingers still moving gently over Dean's body.

 _Couple of months_. That was pretty long. Long enough for people to give up searching, to think he was dead. Dean thought about his life back home. Some friends would notice, his publisher for sure, but he could easily explain things and they may just be happy to have him back when the time came. And Dean was already feel the weight of the past few years lifting from his shoulders in the way no vacation ever could help.

"You know... it might not be that bad of a thing, me staying here, disappearing from the world for awhile. I mean, if it's not too much of a hassle, having me around." Looking up at Sam he smiled, reaching out to tuck hair behind his ear.

"It's a hassle but I can adjust." Sam was quite serious. He would have to make sure he brought in some more food, even reorganize things around the cabin. Making some kind of crutches for Dean was a must, eventually he would need some air and to use the bathroom outside. He looked up in time to see the startled look on Dean's face, "I have a lot to do - but ..." Sam looked back down as his lips drew up into a smile, "I will like you being here." He leaned forward and kissed Dean, missing his lips a little and kissing more chin than lips. "I kept my father's bed in the loft in case I wanted to use it later, I can bring it down and set it up in again in the living room so I don't have to sleep on the floor."

"Okay, if you're sure," Dean said slowly, hating the idea of ruining the life Sam had set up for himself here. "I wish I knew more about... well... basically I won't be much help," he chuckled softly and lifted his shoulder in a half shrug. "Hey do you have any sort of paper and pencil? Anything I could write with?"

Taking a deep breath Sam nodded. Climbing over Dean again he padded over to the trunk in the corner, opened it and pulled out a large notebook and some pencils.

"Here," he walked slowly back across the room and held out the book to Dean. "It was my father's journal. This one is only about half full so you could... use the rest." Sam's hand rubbed over the worn leather cover gently and then he handed it over and put the pencils beside the bed.

"Wow." Dean pushed himself up on the bed so he could sit and pull the notebook up into his lap. "I... are you sure Sam? I wouldn't want to... I mean-" Dean glanced back up at the man, watching his movements. "I appreciate it but I wouldn't want to ruin something belonging to your father."

"Why would you ruin it? Aren't you going to write something? Is that what you do?" Sam rubbed sleepily at his eye."My Dad would have liked that. He said that journals are like the way people remember you, get to know your thoughts. You can read it if you want."

Sighing Sam rolled his neck slowly. "I need some more sleep, I'm tired...you want me to get you a candle so you can write for a while?"

"No, I think I'm gonna get some more sleep too. Maybe tomorrow I can go outside and write for awhile." Dean shifted on the bed, reaching out to lay the notebook on the table. "You... gonna go get that bed? I could make room for you here if you wanted." He continued to watch Sam with curious eyes, trying to learn all the little things that made up the man.

Scratching his head, Sam pursed his lips while he thought about it. "Would that be ... does it hurt you? I don't want to hurt your leg." He shifted his weight to his back foot, rubbing at his eye again and yawning. "I usually get up really early and go to bed early."

"It's fine, you didn't hurt me at all." Dean rolled back until he was against the wall, giving room for Sam to join him. "I suppose without electricity it makes sense to go to bed earlier. I should get on your sleep schedule, makes more sense." Dean dropped back onto his pillow and pulled the blanket back for Sam.

Without even really thinking about it, Sam slipped off his shirt and pants, moving across the room in the dim light to lay his clothes on the trunk. Moving almost silently across the room he slipped under the covers and tucked his arm under the pillow. Smiling at Dean in the half light from the moon he reached his fingers up and pressed them to Dean's collarbone just visible under the collar of the sweater. "Aren't you warm?"

"Uh..." Dean's mind was effectively wiped blank at the quick glimpse he'd caught before Sam's naked form slid into the bed beside him. He had to remind himself that Sam wasn't accustomed to interactions with random men and therefore sliding into a bed with one, wearing absolutely nothing, wasn't that big of a deal.

"I am... very hot," he muttered and reached down to tug at the sweats he was wearing. Heat was definitely coursing through his veins though it was more from the thought of what it would be like to touch that rippled flesh. _Fuck_ even Dean's brain was starting to sound like some type of cheesy romance novel. "You... can you help me out of my pants?" Dean bit back the snort of laughter that bubbled up in him. _Worst pick up line ever._ Thankfully Sam wouldn't interpret it that way.

"Sure." pushing himself up again Sam scooted down in the bed a little ways and curved his hands under Dean's hips to pull him up slightly, tucked his fingers under the waistband and slid the pants down. Easing Dean back down onto the bed Sam tugged the pants gently over the splint and tossed them aside. Pulling the blankets up over them both he nestled back down into the bed. "Okay?"

"Yes, thank you." Dean swallowed thickly, resisting the urge to reach out and touch Sam like he _really_ wanted to. "I... is it okay if I kiss you again?" Dean rolled toward Sam, reaching out in the dark to lay his fingers on the man's chest.

"MMhmmm." Sam shifted closer, into Dean's warmth and slipped his arm over the other man's waist.

Before their lips touched Dean could feel the heat coursing through him. He covered his response by sliding his hand up Sam's chest and around his neck, pulling him in so their lips could slide together. The same little shocks from before shot through him Dean's body as his mouth parted against Sam's, body sliding as close as possible to bring them flush together. Dean didn't know if the fact that he was wearing boxers was a curse or a blessing.

A little braver than he'd been before, Sam pressed up against Dean's body. "Careful of your leg," he whispered against the other man's lips. Sliding his hand down Dean's thigh, over his knee he lifted the broken leg carefully and rested it over his own leg gently. The heat was back in Sam's body and he was getting hard - just being near Dean like that, skin pressed up against his. "I ... think," he murmured, " I think I like men...just fine...."

With a soft chuckle Dean let his hand slide low on Sam's body, curving along his chest before settling on his hip. "That's good," he murmured, dipping in to brush their lips together once more before kissing a trail across Sam's check to his jaw line, sucking on the soft flesh. Dean could feel the heat along Sam's crotch grow, pressing both too close to his and not close enough. Moaning softly he kissed back to Sam's mouth and sealed their lips together once more, tongue thrusting forward to shove roughly into Sam's mouth and play along the man's, encouraging without words.

Sam half gasped half moaned and pulled back quickly. "I -" his voice broke and he blinked at Dean for a few moments then pressed forward again to catch Dean's mouth with his. Sliding his tongue forward, hesitant, shy, Sam shuddered as it slid into the heat of Dean's mouth. The instant Dean drew his tongue further in Sam knew why people did that...the tongue thing... moaning quietly he explored Dean's mouth as his fingers curled hard into the other man's side.

Everything inside Dean quickened a notch as he sucked on Sam's tongue, fingers sliding along the skin before slipping back to gently caress along the curve of the man's ass. Pulling back from the kiss reluctantly Dean exhaled slowly and dropped his head to rest in the crook of Sam's neck. His hips involuntarily rocked forward, seeking out friction, and he moaned softly into warmth flesh, sucking in the taste. "I don't want to push you," he whispered through a soft pant, lips grazing along the skin slowly. "And I'm beginning to worry I won't stop... if we keep up..."

"I don't want to stop, I like kissing you." Sam leaned forward again and dragged his tongue along Dean's bottom lip then kissed the corner of his mouth. "It ... " he sighed happily, "it feels _really_ good."

 _Sam's broad palm slid over Dean's waist to his back, holding him, stopping him from moving away. "Are you tired?" Concern ghosted across his face for a few fleeting moments._

 _"No, I... that's not." Dean bit down on his lower lip, considering the best way to explain this to Sam without completely freaking him out and sending him running off into the night bareassed naked. "It does feel _really_ good and there's _so_ much more that follows it. Like... touching. And... lips in other places. And... a lot of other things. So when we're kissing, it makes me want to _do_ those other things." Dean peered down into Sam's eyes, trying to determine if he understood what he was saying._

"Oh." Sam shifted back a little brows tugging together. "Oooooh," his eyes widened, "you mean sex. You don't want to do... to have sex." Sam looked down with a crooked smile on his face, "I've read books, Dean. And Bobby gave me a magazine once... I think... I was supposed to ... well, the woman were pretty but I like looking at you a lot more."

Sam wasn't entirely sure he quite understood the logistics of a man having _sex_ with another man but he could think of a few things that would be worth trying. "Do you... " he licked his lips, "do you like it when people touch you ... you know," he looked down, "like you touch yourself?"

Dean swallowed thickly, blinking at the man, "I, um... yes. Yeah, it feels... it's _really_ good," Dean chuckled softly and traced his fingers over Sam's. This whole conversation was turning out to be just as hot as kissing, which wasn't really helping Dean's current issues. "And to be fair, the problem isn't so much me not wanting to have sex as it is me _wanting_ to. But that's a pretty broad term, sex, and it covers a lot of things depending on how you see it. Like... touching. If... if I were to touch you... like you touch yourself."

Dean glanced down as well, knowing if he shifted back he'd be able to _see_ Sam's outline in the pale moonlight coming in through the open door.

Sam sucked his bottom lip into his mouth and tilted his head, reaching down to press his palm against the front of Dean's boxers. "Like that..." Sam closed his eyes against the heat that washed down his body then lunged forward to suck on Dean's neck ... it had felt so good before when he'd done it to Sam. Letting go with a wet popping sound, Sam smiled and rubbed his hand slowly along the hard line in Dean's boxers. "Is that okay?" Sam's voice was husky and soft.

"Jesus," Dean gasped, pleasure shot up his spine in quick sparks, the feel of Sam's palm so near to his flesh was unexpected and completely worthwhile. "Y-yeah..." he dragged his tongue over his lips, eyes fixing on the man's face. "More than okay..." It had been so long since someone touched him like this and Dean _really_ hoped Sam would continue his explorations into sex.

Knowing that Sam hadn't _ever_ touched anyone like this only made it that much more intense. "It's better... under clothes..." His lips quirked up slightly into a smile, hips shifting up into the touch.

"It's making me shake." Sam swallowed, he was whispering against Dean's ear afraid that if he raised his voice it would somehow all be less real. _Shake_ , and a million other things he'd never experienced. The ache in his belly, in his cock was painful and he had the most overwhelming sensation of wanting, _needing_ to be closer.

"I ..." he closed his eyes and buried his face in Dean's neck again, frantically kissing down the long line of muscle to his shoulder.

"S'okay," Dean murmured softly, working his arm under Sam's body to squeeze comfortingly. Sam's lips burned into his skin, rapid and quick along every inch of his neck he could reach.

"Hey," Dean cupped his jaw and brought his face up to brush their lips together. "Slow... I'm not going anywhere." He smiled into Sam's lips before moving his fingers still along Sam's hip bones slowly over to the side. Pulling back enough to meet Sam's eyes, Dean watched as his fingers flexed, brushed along the hard line of Sam's cock, and slowly curled over the swollen flesh. He watched for any hesitation, swallowing the flare of _want_ that burned in him as Sam's cock slid against his palm.

So many things happened at once. Something flared through Sam's body - unlike anything he'd ever felt when he touched himself. Feeling like every muscle in his body tensed at once, Sam arched forward into Dean, murmuring the man's name over and over. His voice was soft, thick and deep - he'd never sounded like that and he was terrified of the intensity of the touch, the moment, and at the same time as his body lunged forward for _more_.

It was amazing and overwhelming and Sam's cock throbbed in Dean's hand as though all the blood in his body had rushed to greet the man's fingertips. "Dean," he moaned once more, feeling like it was all too much and wanting to beg Dean not to stop. He shuddered against the other man's body, hands stilling, mouth open and gasping for air against Dean's neck.

Dean had _never_ seen anyone react the way Sam was to such a small touch. He pulled back, eyes locking on Sam's features, breath coming out in quick pants as stared hungrily down at the man.

"Fuck you're so..." Dean's mind couldn't supply a world to properly describe how amazing Sam looked, face flushed, lips parted and swollen, eyes half lidded. Dean swallowed hard and tightened his grip on Sam's hard flesh, twisting up in a slow stroke. He wanted to taste but he'd been with enough people in his time to know that Sam was close, too close, which wasn't that surprising considering Dean was the first person to ever touch him this way.

"S'okay," he soothed softly, free hand lifting to brush along Sam's brow.

Sam's eyes drifted close as Dean's hand swept across his face. He was gentle, sweet and kind and Sam was so glad that he had found him. Shivering still, his body reacted to the feel of Dean's palm, soft and smooth gliding up along his cock. There was no way that Sam could stop his hips from rolling toward Dean and it slid his cock through the man's grip again.

It was almost painful and not enough and Sam's arms and hands were suddenly in motion scrabbling at Dean's back and tightening once more on the hard line in Dean's boxers. He was sucking wet, poorly aimed kisses to any part of Dean he could reach, his salty neck the slope of his shoulder, the corner of his mouth. He could feel the heat spiraling out of control in his body, widening in a huge arc from his belly. Writhing slowly against Dean's body somehow, still aware and yet not. Sam's teeth locked onto Dean's neck, desperate as his release nearly took away his ability to breathe. He came so hard that his body jolted forward, shoulders curling in, hips snapping to slide his rigid flesh through Dean's tender grasp.

"Sorry... sorry," he repeated over and over when he could finally breathe. Clinging to Dean's body Sam shook and jerked through his orgasm, faced buried in Dean's shoulder.

Something clenched around Dean's heart at Sam's gasped apology and he shifted his arms around him, holding him close as the last of his release faded away. "Shh, nothing to apologize for," Dean insisted quietly, stroking a hand through Sam's hair.

He didn't tell Sam that seeing him fall apart like that was one of the most amazingly hot things he'd ever witnessed. People were always so carefully guarded, holding back even in their most intense moments, Sam had let all himself fall away and Dean's mind raced with the idea of how Sam might be with _more_ involved. "You okay?" He asked gently, pulling back enough to scan Sam's features.

"D..Don't know," Sam managed to groan out as he slid both his arms around Dean's neck. "Did... is your leg...?" As Sam's brain started to function again on the most base level he realized that he'd probably hurt Dean. Pushing back a little Sam's hot palm slid down Dean's leg.

"You okay?" His belly was sticky and damp and so was Dean's hand and Sam groaned, "I'm sorry... I'll... in a minute," he drew in a shuddering breath, "I'll clean my mess."

Looking down Sam closed his eyes. His thoughts were racing over one another, he didn't know what to do, if what they'd done was alright - something that Dean wanted. His mind flashed back over the books he'd read and never had anything made sex seem so overwhelming. It was like he'd had no control over the way he felt, the things he did - the way he moved. _God_.

Dean tried to read the thoughts racing across Sam's features but it was nearly impossible. So he put himself in Sam's place, imagined experiencing something so intense after so many years of nothing at all.

"Sam," he said softly, shifting on the mattress to alleviate the pulse of heat still present. Dean brushed his fingers along Sam's brow once more, trying for soothing again. "It really is okay. That was... god, that was really hot, seeing you like that. So don't worry," he smiled softly and moved carefully to avoid brushing his hard flesh against Sam's body. The last thing he wanted to do was overload Sam by suggesting Sam help him out with his own problem; he could take care of the issue himself later.

Sam shifted slightly, pressed a soft kiss to Dean's cheek then slid back and out of the bed. Reaching for the towel he'd left there earlier, he dipped it in the now cold water and bent down to wipe Dean's chest and hand. Cleaning each finger slowly, he smiled, glancing up at Dean. Even now, his legs were still shaking, a slight tremor in his hands.

Laying Dean's hand back down he turned and took a deep breath, wiping himself clean and stood there for a minute ... thinking ... running over the events of the evening in his mind. So many sensations, so many feelings and here he was feeling like he'd been turned inside out - all the raw edges facing out. He slipped back into the bed quietly, mindful of Dean's leg and nestled in close to the other man. Not trusting his voice, not knowing if he had the right words, he simply pressed up against Dean's chest.

Something about the man seemed to throw Dean, which honestly wasn't that surprising. A small sigh left his lips as he settled back on the pillow, letting the heat drain out of his body.

"Thank you," he said softly, holding up his hand so Sam would understand what he was referring too. He wished Sam would give him some idea of what was going on in that mind of his but Dean had no choice but to continue to remind himself that Sam wasn't accustomed to sharing things with people, especially not things on this level. "Sleepy?" He asked quietly, fingers sliding softly along Sam's skin.

Shaking his head Sam lifted it so he could look at Dean's face. "Confused..." he murmured, "scared." He had never had anyone in his life before to lose other than his father. Now, in such a short time he had realized some of what he was missing by living away from _civilization_. But ... there were so many things whirling through Sam's mind. Never having had a relationship of any kind he had no idea what to expect from Dean now that they'd ... _touched_ like this. Maybe there was nothing _to_ expect. _Maybe_ people did things like this all the time.

"Scared?" Dean asked softly, reaching once more out to stroke the side of Sam's jaw. "What are you scared about?" He could understand the confusion, it honestly had to be like waking up in a whole new world, a place Sam had never stepped foot in before.

Blinking in the dim room, Sam focused on Dean's face. Resting his palm flat against Dean's chest he smiled slightly. "Scared of you. When I'm alone again ... and I'm worried I might get things wrong - or think they mean more than they do. I mean I know that people do... things," Sam swallowed loudly, nervous. "I know, that people do things that feel good just _because_ it feels good." Sam looked away, palm sliding along Dean's chest as he made note of the curves, the sensation of the other man's flesh under his rough palm.

A small frown turned Dean's lips down as he considered Sam's words. He certainly wasn't going to lie to Sam, this _thing_ between them had very little chance of going beyond however long it took Dean to heal, but sometimes things were worth it. "I'm not one of those people, who just messes around because it feels good. Even if it's... maybe not a forever thing... I always put some feeling into it. But... you are right, I will leave, when I feel better, and I don't imagine you'll come with me... so if you'd rather not, I can back up," Dean said softly.

 _I will leave._ The corner of Sam's mouth twitched and his smile faded. " _Some_ feeling," he murmured. Why would it be anything else to Dean? Dean came from another world and he was telling the truth - he would be going right back to that world as soon as he could walk. Sam needed to not make things more than they actually were.

"I'm tired, and you need to sleep," Sam's voice was soft and almost disappeared in the room around them. Rolling over, he tucked an arm under one of the pillows and pulled the blanket up. "Let me know if I hurt your leg and I'll move back to the blankets in the hallway."

Dean stared at his hand still hovering in the air where Sam had been just moments before. He wasn't fond of the twisting of his gut, nor the feeling that he'd just officially cut off any chance of things going further. "Okay..." he said slowly, rolling on the bed until his back faced Sam's. The real kicker was his leg _did_ hurt. But he wasn't going to say anything about it.

-=-=-=-

Sam's sleep was fitful, strange dreams waking him more than once. In the middle of the night he rolled closer to Dean's heat under the blankets, tucked in closer and fell asleep once more. The final time he awoke it was dawn and Sam slipped quietly from the bed, dressed and went outside to fetch water from the river.

When Dean woke several hours later he wasn't that shocked to find the bed empty beside him. It didn't exactly put him in a good mood, however. His mood only continued to decline as he banged his leg hard against the wall in effort to turn around to use the urinal. Dean was really reaching his limits, being reduced to this bed so many days in a row. If Sam showed his face at all during the day Dean was going to ask for help outside. He wasn't going to try and do it himself again, clearly that didn't go too well last time.

Several minutes later Dean managed to slide himself up in the bed, reaching out for the glass of water Sam had left for him. Judging from the plate of food accompanying it, Dean wasn't likely to see Sam anytime soon. It took some negotiating but Dean managed to get himself leaning against the wall, notebook on his lap, plate of fruit and jerky off to his side. His heart clenched slightly as he popped a berry into his mouth, thinking about the way Sam so innocently fed the food to him, eyes wide and curious.

Blowing out a low breath Dean flipped to the first blank page in the notebook. His eyes slid over the already written words but he hesitated in reading. It felt too much like invading someone's personal space, even if Sam had given him permission. Maybe later. For now Dean needed to get some of the swirling thoughts in his mind to straighten out. Otherwise he might keep saying things to Sam that only confused him further and possibly created the risk of making the next two months far less than pleasant.

 _For years he has been used to the silence, so the additional breath accompanied with a faint sigh wakes him in the earliest morning hours. If he studies the noises hard enough he may be able to pinpoint the additional heartbeat, the gentle wheeze of lungs contracting and expanding, just beyond the call of birds greeting the rising sun. Despite the early hour, he can make out distinct features of the other’s face. A curved jaw, full lips, sharp cheekbones, slanted eyes, beauty in a manner he has never seen before._

The words trickled off but Dean didn't mind. It was more than he had written in months. For awhile he sat and listened to the world around him. It was silent, just the occasional chirp outside, barely penetrating the quiet. It was surreal. Even if Dean sat alone in his apartment there would be noises. The hum of the air conditioner, the vacuum running downstairs, water running through pipes, electricity humming, traffic in the distance, all these things Dean had grown up knowing and dismissing. This silence was so loud it was almost overwhelming.

Turning his attention away from the silence, Dean flipped through the notebook, stopping at a random entry. There was no date, just a simple _Spring_ written at the top. The script was crisp and neat, clearly legible, as if John had written it to be read. Dean wondered if Sam had read it, or if he already knew the words without needing to see them. Dean considered what a relationship between a father and son would be like if they needed to rely on each other to get by, for company, and then to lose that... it was no wonder Sam was so all over the place, so curious about the thing that might happen to them. Why would Sam want to attach himself to someone if they were simply going to leave him alone once more? It must have been very painful when Sam lost his father.

 _Sam and I both enjoy the forest this time of year. The air is thick with the fresh bloom of flowers, undergrowth shifting constantly to make way for those newborn creatures trailing along after proud mamas. I like to watch Sam crouched along the large tree root out back; even at fifteen the boy still enjoys catching sight of the baby animals and this year, like the ones before, he will likely track their growth in his own fashion. He names them and they're the closest he'll ever get to having pets of his own. I know he wants to but Sam never touches, he knows better, knows the mama might abandon her young if they smell of human._

 _Sometimes I think I might ask Bobby to bring a dog up with him, someone to keep Sam company, but I have this feeling I won't be seeing Bobby much longer. Man just doesn't understand my ways. That's alright, I don't need to explain myself to anyone but Sam, and Sam never asks for an explanation._

Looking up from the page Dean frowned, mind turning over the information offered in the shirt entry. Clearly John loved his son, that was more than obvious. And something had led them to this life. Sam must have only known this place as home. It seemed bittersweet, never knowing what you were missing but missing it nonetheless. Flipping back to the paragraph he'd started before, Dean reclaimed the pencil and began to write.

The story was about Sam, though of course the names had been changed. Dean knew the best writing was personal. Though he found himself only able to write what had passed, not wanting to decide anything regarding their future.


	3. Chapter 3

It was clear to Dean upon seeing Sam the first time since their evening together that the man was still very confused. With that in mind, Dean decided to back off completely from anything of a sexual nature. He still maintained his friendly, cheerful attitude and he watched Sam relax, knowing he'd made the right choice. Sam helped Dean outside and he got a real view of exactly how secluded the cabin was. There was nothing but trees, woods as far as the eye could see.

Sam set him up in a chair he'd clearly made, leaving him with the notebook and water, only returning to offer lunch sometime during the day. Instead of writing, Dean started at the beginning of the journal and read, learning more about Sam from his father's eyes. It was clear from each entry that John loved his son very much and whatever it was that brought them to this cabin had been something bad enough to cause the man to want to shield Sam from how very cruel the world could be.

Slowly, carefully, Sam let himself grow used to Dean. Having another human presence in the cabin all the time forced Sam to learn some new things about himself. Quickly, he discovered that he needed some time by himself every day - it was as though his brain needed the quiet that he had grown up with. Daily walks through the mountains, hiking down to the river - Sam used all his solitary moments to try and process all the things that Dean was telling him, showing him, and the things Sam - himself - was starting to feel. It was different, unusual - strange - Dean brought out things that Sam had never experienced. Sensations, the briefest touch of a hand, the smell of someone else in Sam's home, the heat.

The bed was never an issue. Sam didn't offer again to bring the other mattress down again to set it up and Dean didn't ask him to move. He was glad to slide into bed with someone else at night - it made Sam's world seem sweeter, calmer. And still, at night, Sam would fall asleep facing away from Dean - inches between them that might have been a mile - and then as soon as Dean's breathing evened out Sam would slide up close to him and sleep with his cheek pressed against Dean's flesh.

Dean had never broken a bone before but he was pretty sure healing from something like that was one of the worst things in his entire life, especially without a proper cast to ensure even the smallest movements wouldn't affect him. He missed being able to walk without the assistance of someone, though pressing hard into Sam's side wasn't something he was complaining about.

Whenever Sam announced he was going out for whatever he did in the woods, Dean would ask to be moved out to the front of cabin. Sitting in the fresh air, reading or writing, helped the unease often settling over his shoulders.

Dean _missed_ the simple comforts of home: running water, a hot shower, his computer, but overall it wasn't unbearable. Excluding the almost never-ending urge to kiss Sam. But three days after their evening and the confusion that followed and neither had touched the subject. Dean spent a fair amount of time trying to determine whether that was a good or bad thing, though he was fairly certain it was bad. They _should_ talk about the subject but Dean didn't have any clue how to put things into words that Sam would understand.

Hiking up from the river, Sam looked up - eyes searching for the first glimpse of Dean through the trees. It was nice to know that there would be another voice to hear throughout the course of his days.

"Dean!" Sam called out, listening to his own voice echo back at him, "I brought you something." Sam jogged the rest of the way up to the cabin and crouched down by Dean's chair, panting slightly from his hike up the hill. "Here," he handed Dean a geode he had found broken open. "It's beautiful in the sun." Smiling up at Dean, Sam shifted and dropped down hard on his ass beside Dean's chair.

"Wore myself out," he wiped his arm across the sweat beaded on his forehead.

With a soft smile Dean observed the rock, tilting it to catch a spark of sunlight along its surface. "Wow, I've seen these in stores before. It's cool, knowing this was just out there." His smile morphed into a grin as he looked over at Sam. "Thank you. Did you have a good hike?" Dean set the geode aside, flipping the notebook closed and curling his fingers around the edges.

"I did." Sam's eyes drifted back down toward the river, "it's great out there - maybe - before you go..." Sam looked back up at Dean, "when you can walk I can show you some things before you leave? I was actually thinking - when you're feeling stronger I could piggy-back you down to the river?" Blinking a few times Sam brushed his hair back off his forehead.

Chuckling softly Dean nodded and shifted on the chair, "Yeah, well that could be interesting. And fun." He scanned the forest for a few minutes before looking back at Sam. "Do you think I'll be able to do any walking before it's completely healed? I've tested putting some pressure on it but it hurts too much." He shrugged and scratched under the splint around his leg.

"Not for a couple of weeks, at least. I know you want to get out of here but just take it easy." The smile faded from Sam's face and he shifted to lean back against the cabin wall - staring out over the trees.

"What?" Dean shifted to look at him, frowning, "I'm not..." Scratching at his forehead Dean sighed and glanced down at the notebook before looking back at Sam. "I wasn't asking because I want to get out of here, I was asking because I'd like to walk with you sometime. And well, walk period. It really doesn't have much to do with me leaving as soon as possible. I like being here, with you."

"I can take you to the river tonight if you want, after you eat something, maybe you'd like to bathe in the water. It's cold - but it might feel good on your leg." Sam's fingers tugged at a thread on the knee of his pants.

"Want me to leave you alone to write more?" Glancing up at the notebook Sam couldn't help being curious about what Dean had written. He knew that Dean was a writer but he'd never asked to read any of the many words Dean had been scribbling in his father's old journal. It seemed too personal somehow.

"No, I'm at a block." Dean sighed and continued to scratch along the skin he could reach under the splint. "I can't decide what to do with it." He rolled his shoulders in a shrug and stared down at the notebook.

"You... wanna read it? Maybe you can give me some advice, or a different view. I normally don't let anyone read my works in progress but well, this one might mean something to you." Dean held out the notebook, not meeting Sam's eyes. He hadn't told the man that the story was about him, them, and hadn't completely considered how it might make Sam feel.

"What's your story about?" Sam shifted a little closer, eyes on the notebook.

Pursing his lips softly, Dean lifted his gaze to look at Sam. "Well... it's about you. And me. About being here and what's it's like. Only it's fiction, so you know I changed your name. And my name. I guess it's a fictional autobiography." Dean chuckled humorlessly and shrugged. "Hope you don't mind."

"I don't want to read it." Sam looked away again. "Thank you," he added as an after-thought. The idea of reading about himself, what Dean _really_ thought of him wasn't all that appealing. "If there's something about me... you need me to know - you can tell me. If not..." Sam shrugged.

Dean pulled the notebook back and frowned, heart clenching painfully. He was slightly surprised how much that little statement _hurt_. Looking off to the side Dean blew out a low breath before shifting on the chair. "I think I'd like to go lay down for awhile," he said softly, eyes fixed in the opposite direction of Sam. "Can you help me up?"

"No." Sam looked up at Dean. "Tell me. Tell me what you wrote about me?" He was tired of not talking to Dean about _real_ things. Sure, they talked about the cabin, some of the books that Sam owned, his father, Dean's injuries - but nothing about _them_.

"Just read it if you're curious," Dean said, a little sharper than he intended. Looking over at the crushed look on Sam's face Dean sighed and rubbed his hand through his hair, "I just wrote how it's been. You know, how you went out of your way to rescue me from certain death, patched me up, how you and I come from different worlds and how I say things that are stupid that you don't understand." Dean shrugged and looked away once more. "And about how much I really like you, even with all the logical reasons why we shouldn't be anything."

"I'm sorry I don't understand." Sam swallowed, trying to get rid of the hollow feeling he got in his chest when Dean spoke about how different they were. "It's because... I've never talked to anyone this much, just my Dad...you don't say stupid things. Why..." Sam's fingers curled over the arm of Dean's chair, close to the other man's hand, "why is your story stuck?"

Dean looked down at Sam's hand, wetting his lips slowly as he considered the right way to put things. It was hard to pick and choose his words, he was so used to just blurting out whatever came to his mind. It got him in trouble more often then not but often had amusing outcomes, here it was completely different. "Because I don't know where it's going. I don't want to write something that might not be true, or might come true and..." Looking up at Sam, Dean chuckled and shook his head. "If I write about these two men having any sort of relationship, that's like, writing about you and me having... and well, I don't think that's what you want."

"You don't think I want?" Sam tilted his head curiously. "You don't think I want a relationship?" Sam hadn't really thought about being _anything_ with Dean because it hadn't seemed much like it was an option. With Dean returning home as soon as he could walk, why would he be interested in someone like Sam. He was also pretty certain that being a writer meant Dean lived a far more exciting life - met more interesting men than someone who'd lived in a cabin his entire life.

"No, I don't." Dean's face pulled together slightly, considering Sam. "That was the stupid thing I said a few nights ago, I mean, all that stuff I said. I don't think you understood what I was trying to say but then, I don't know if I understood it." Shifting toward Sam in the chair, Dean stared at him. "Do you want a relationship?"

"Do you mean ... touching you? Kissing you? Yeah." Sam ducked his head trying to hide his blush behind his hair. Of course, he wanted those things he'd be crazy not to. "I thought maybe I wasn't good." His fingers slid over to Dean's hand, pinky brushing against the other man's, "you know, at the kissing ... and stuff." He huffed. There were a hundred other things that Sam had thought the night they touched but he didn't have the words to even begin describing everything.

Dean's eyebrows lifted as his fingers twitched toward Sam's touch. "Not good? I do believe I said it was really fucking hot, or at least thought it, either way it _was_. But then it seemed like maybe it was too much and I thought I might have pushed you into it."

Dean let his hand slid along Sam's, watching the movement, "I guess it's just... one of those things you know. I mean, we may know all the circumstances and such that can hold us back but some things are just worth taking a chance on. And judging from what it was like last time, I have this feeling it is worth it."

"When you touch me, it's like..." Sam took a long breath in, "it's like little fires running along my skin." Tilting his head he closed his eyes concentrating on the feeling, trying to get it right. "Strange - you know how when you touch something that really cold and it's _so_ cold that it feels like it's burning. Your body gets it wrong because it just... it's too much." Opening his eyes he looked up and smiled. "It feels like that."

"I think that's a good thing," Dean said softly, smile pulling across his lips to match Sam's. "So... are we going to go back to doing the kissing thing again? Because I've kind of missed that." He chuckled softly and twisted his wrist to slide his palm along Sam's.

Sam's eyes moved down to the fine hairs on his forearms that stood up as Dean's flesh slid across his. "Kissing ... was good." And so was the touching part but Sam wasn't going to suggest that.

"Dean?" Sam lined his fingers up with Dean's, measuring the difference. His skin was darker than Dean's, rougher, and Dean's nails were smooth and clean.

Watching the movements of Sam's fingers, Dean swallowed, working around the mixture of feelings swirling up in him. "Yeah?"

Running over the books in his head, all the things that he'd nearly memorized over the years; Sam tried to put together the right words. "The other night ... when we were in bed. Was it wrong that I ..." Sam chewed on the side of his lip for a few moments, "that I came. Should I have lasted longer? Touched you more? Do you think... " he licked his lips, "I could be better at that?"

He wanted to be better, make Dean happy - more than anything Sam wanted to make Dean feel as good as he had felt that night. He just wasn't sure he could put all the pieces together. If there was one thing he'd learned in the very short time that Dean had been at the cabin, it was that reading about something and doing it were two completely different things.

Dean smiled softly and reached out to run his fingers through Sam's hair. "Considering that you've never been with anyone at all, I think it's normal that you came when you did. The entire situation had to be a little overwhelming for you." Seeing the look of confirmation in Sam's eyes, Dean nodded and once more picked over his next words carefully.

"Generally, it's... the right thing to do, if you get off to get your partner off too. But well, circumstances… If you want, you could try touching me? I would definitely enjoy that," he smiled brighter at the man, wetting his lips in anticipation of the idea of Sam touching him.

Sam's heart thudded a little louder and his fingers curled in between Dean's. "Now? You mean now?"

"Yeah, now. If you want," Dean shrugged, trying to be casual. He realized a moment later that it was wasted effort. He didn't have to pretend not to want something with Sam, it wasn't like any guy back home where appearing cool and nonchalant was the best way. "I'd like to see your features, not in the dark and all." He smiled at Sam and squeezed the man's palm firmly.

"I like seeing you." Sam pushed up on to his knees and moved around so he could push between Dean's legs. His large hand wrapped gently over Dean's thigh right above the splint. "Is your leg okay there?" Sam shifted the table that Dean's leg was on slightly so he could get closer, both hands gripping Dean's thighs.

"I... yes, it's okay." Dean nodded slowly, watching Sam move. He hadn't thought there would be touching _here_ and his eyes lifted to flick around the forest until he realized there was no one to see them.

Sam was unknowingly hitting one of Dean's kinks that had never been touched. "Are you... going to touch me here?" In any other situation he would have felt weird asking something like that, but now it only thrilled him.

"I was." Sam looked up, eyes travelling slowly over Dean's legs, the material of his t-shirt, his long neck to his eyes. "Are you not comfortable? I could help you inside."

Sam's brow furrowed, he'd thought Dean seemed happier outside in the fresh air, and the sun. The man's face always seemed a little more tense if he'd been in the cabin too long.

"I'm good," Dean insisted, shifting on the seat slightly to spread his legs as wide as he could. "I actually like the idea of you touching me out here." He swallowed around the already rising arousal and watched Sam.

Sam rubbed his palms up and down Dean's thighs a few times, squeezed the muscles the leaned forward and curved his palms over Dean's hips. "My hands fit over your hips almost perfectly." He rubbed his thumbs over dip in front of each hipbone. Even through the material he could feel the heat of Dean's skin. The heat was something Sam had learned to steal at night, quietly, when Dean was sleeping.

"When you're asleep at night," he began, "I..I like to press up against you - feel how warm you are - how alive." Collapsing forward slowly Sam buried rested his cheek against Dean's stomach, the soft cotton t-shirt tugging against his ever-present stubble.

Dean sucked in a sharp breath, body flaring to life at the feel of Sam nestled so low on his stomach. "I, uh..." Swallowing thickly, he let his hand settle in Sam's hair, smoothing through the locks slowly. "I know. I've woken up a couple times... I like it."

Staring down at the top of Sam's head, Dean blew out a low breath and rocked his hips slightly up. "Can I... ask about the books you've read? The... the things you know about, regarding being with someone?" Dean needed to get some idea of what he was working with, so he didn't push Sam too far into anything he wasn't prepared for.

"Books?" Sam turned his head slightly grabbing Dean's t-shirt with one hand and pulling it up. Rubbing his cheek against Dean's stomach Sam smiled as the down fine hairs tickled his cheek. "Books about... people you mean?" Turning into the heat of Dean's skin, Sam rubbed his lips back and forth across Dean's belly button.

"I read that lips..." he kissed the skin just below Dean's ribs, "have the highest concentration of nerve endings in the human body."

"O-oh," Dean gasped out the word, fingers tightening in Sam's hair. "I... yeah, yeah I can see that being true." His eyes fluttered a few times and he pushed himself to continue speaking.

"Did you read about what lips... low on the body like that... where they can touch?" The whole conversation was so strangely erotic Dean thought they could keep it up, along with Sam's lips, and he'd come right in his pants.

"Oral sex." Sam poked his tongue into Dean's belly button and twirled it slightly then pulled back to drag his tongue up the middle of Dean's body. His skin was salty with sweat and smelled good, earthy and musty.

"Blow jobs," Sam muttered against Dean's chest. Kneeling up higher he lifted a hand and ran his index finger around Dean's nipple, eyes widening with delight at the way it hardened under his touch.

Dean sank back into the chair, body humming with pleasure at the feel of Sam's lips and fingers. Knowing Sam was simply exploring him, discovering something new, only heightened each sensation.

"Yeah... blow jobs." Dean nodded and arched his back up into Sam's fingers. "There's basically... nowhere on the body, that your lips can't touch. And for most people, it all feels good." His voice was rich and thick with arousal, hips shifting restlessly against their confines.

Sam rubbed his lips across Dean's nipple then parted his lips so his tongue could trace the wine coloured circle of flesh. "Feels good for ..." he sucked the nipple into his mouth, tongue pressing against the sensitive nub of flesh then let go, "most people," he echoed.

Pink tongue lapping at Dean's chest, Sam moved slowly across his muscles - fingers mapping every curve and dip, line and freckle. Gasping, Sam looked up briefly and smiled, "you have freckles here too." He connected some of the freckles together, drawing an invisible line with the tip of his finger then pressed closer again to lick back down the center of Dean's body.

"What's your favorite place to be kissed?" Sam sucked on the skin just above Dean's waistband, nipping gently, exploring.

"Oh god." Dean moaned softly, body curving off the chair as much as possible. "I uh..." Dean swallowed hard and worked to pull in a deep breath, mind swirling around some type of an answer, "you're doing a... pretty good job, making that question impossible to answer."

Letting both hands curve around Sam's shoulders, Dean tried to steady himself, to refrain from thrusting his hips up into Sam's neck. "There... is good. Very good."

"Are you hard?" Sam's broad palm pressed against the front of Dean's hiking pants as he kissed wetly along the edge of the waistband. "You are."

Sam's own arousal was growing and he could feel the hot _cold_ again burning through him. Hand moving back to Dean's hip Sam drew in a shaky breath as his blood started pumping so much faster in his veins. Slipping down a little Sam nuzzled against the bulge in Dean's pants, loving the feel of his hard flesh beneath the smooth material.

"Jesus _Christ_." Dean moaned much louder this time, no longer able to hold back the urge to rock up into Sam's face. If he didn't know better Dean would actually think the man _was_ trying to kill him, and he was doing a pretty damn good job at it.

Pleasure sparked up along his body, fingers tightening on Sam's shoulders. This wasn't the type of touching he had in mind but _god_ it was so much better.

Taking a leaf from Sam's book, Dean allowed himself to be as blunt as he could manage. "Do you... would you like... to taste there?" He flushed at the words, body shifting up once more, causing the chair to creak.

"You'd like that," Sam murmured against the hard line in Dean's pants. Looking up Sam smiled, Dean's cheeks were rosy like he'd been out in the cold, his lips different - redder almost and his eyes were so much darker.

Still staring up at Dean's face, Sam curled his fingers over the waistband and tugged it forward freeing Dean's cock. Dipping his head down as he moved the pants further down Sam rubbed his cheek against the burning flesh.

There was a _rougher_ smell on Dean, sweat mixed with something else. Sam liked it and buried his nose in the rough curls at Dean's crotch so he could inhale deeply. Tugging the waist band as far down as he could get it Sam growled in frustration and looked up. Grabbing Dean's hips in both hands Sam used his muscle strength to manhandle Dean up slightly and slide the pants down over his ass. "Can I take these off?" He blinked up at Dean, eyes wide and rolled his bottom lip under his teeth.

Dean couldn't get his lips to form words so he nodded, letting Sam move him easily up to remove the pants. His grip on Sam's shoulders loosened as the man shifted back to carefully pull the fabric off the splint binding Dean's leg. It was a little unnerving, how easily Sam could move him around, but it was more hot than anything else, just like everything else Sam was doing.

The warm breeze drifted over his body, skin settling back on the smooth wood of the chair. If he were to look around he was certain he'd see the rapidly growing familiar trees swaying slightly but Dean could do little but stare at Sam in mix of surprise and fascination. "If it's... too much, you don't have too, okay? I'll like whatever," he spit out in a rush, once more worrying about pushing Sam.

"Stop worrying." Sam reached out running his finger from the base of Dean's cock to the tip, swirling his finger gently through the liquid weeping from the tip. Blinking once, Sam quickly pulled his finger back to his mouth and licked the glistening tip. He smiled, "tastes ... different, good" he murmured and drifted forward to lap at the underside of Dean's shaft. The ridges and veins felt unfamiliar under Sam's tongue, the heat of Dean's skin and the way his cock bobbed against Sam's mouth made his own erection even harder. Reaching down Sam palmed the front of his pants impatiently.

A low moan fell from Dean's lips, head tipping back slightly as the heat of Sam's tongue coursed through his system. He already knew this wasn't going to be the best blow job he'd ever had but the fact that it was Sam's first, and the way the man was so eager to touch every inch of his skin, had him nearly writhing on the chair.

"Fuck, Sam," he gasped, body lifting up as much as possible against the man's body. His fingers tightened once more on broad shoulders, head dropping forward to watch the kneeling figure, the fleshy pink curl of tongue around swollen red flesh.

Aiming for Dean's hand with his own, missing, then glancing up Sam grabbed the other man's hand and pulled it towards his hair. "I like it when you pull my hair. It makes me harder."

He could feel himself blushing, the flare of heat bursting across his cheeks, Swallowing, excitement running rampant in his body Sam looked back down, parted his lips and sucked on the head of Dean's cock. More of the salty _earthy_ flavour of Dean burst across Sam's tongue and his hand slid around to cup Dean's ass and hold him close. He didn't quite know what to do, it was wet and noisy but he loved the way Dean moved under him, his hips twisting slowly, body arching toward Sam.

Lifting his hand, Dean slid spread fingers through Sam's hair, twisting around the strands. "Sam," Dean moaned, staring down at Sam's lips circled around his flesh. _Fuck_ that had to be the hottest thing _ever_. Heat flared through him in constant pulses, pumping blood through his veins fast enough to leave his mind spinning. The rock of his hips was out of his control, body seeking the burning warmth of Sam's mouth encasing his flesh.

Tightening his fingers in Sam's hair Dean pulled, sparks flaring across his skin as Sam moaned around his cock. " _God_ , your mouth," he moaned, head falling back with the next rock up of his body. He could already feel his orgasm pushing up through him, threatening around the edges.

The strange landscape of Dean's rigid flesh was unfamiliar and Sam's curious tongue skittered across it, tracing veins, slipping into the slit, rolling around the crown. He sucked at the head of Dean's cock, hands sliding back to curl around the base. Sam took a deep breath and sank down further over the heated flesh when Dean's hips surged forward. Swallowing, eyes watering, he pulled back slightly as a moan escaped his chest and vibrated down the other man's shaft.

Dean could feel the tightening of his muscles, rippling through his system in shock waves of his impending release. Every time Sam sank down over his flesh Dean responded with a moan, body in constant writhing motion on the cool polished surface of the chair he sat on. Dean's thighs began to tremble slightly and he hooked his good leg around Sam's back, holding him close even as he gasped and tugged on the mans hair.

"Sam... I'm gonna..." he moaned in warning, eyes still fixed on the man moving over him with experimental licks and sucks. "Gonna come," he added, in case Sam didn't put the two together.

Sam's hand snapped up grabbing Dean's wrist and holding it there, trapped in his long hair. He didn't want to pull away and sucked harder for a few moments until Dean's hips whipped forward and he arched up out of the chair.

The first burst of come startled Sam, the heat, the sensation and he almost choked then swallowed automatically. All his senses were overloaded, the musky smell of Dean's heat, rough curls brushing his chin, the tight fist gripping his hair and the taste ... _taste_ of Dean - salty, hot, sliding down his throat. His own body thrummed with energy, hips rocking slowly forward under the weight of Dean's leg. He loved the feel of being trapped against Dean's body and even as he licked the come off Dean's shaft Sam moaned, gasped and felt himself come ... warmth and wetness spreading in the front of his pants.

Letting Dean's shaft fall from his mouth Sam gasped in a breath and looked up, panting, come sliding down the side of his chin and moaned softly as his body twitched and throbbed. He closed his eyes for a few moments as his heart thundered deep inside him and then fell forward onto Dean's stomach, boneless and weak.

"Jesus." Dean exhaled slowly, slumping back in the chair. His fingers stroked slowly through Sam's hair, soothing him. "Sam..." he murmured softly, body molding into the chair as the last of his release calmed his veins, heart slowing back to its normal rate.

"Kiss me," he insisted, fingers sliding down along the curve of Sam's jaw, tugging him up slightly, leg around the man's back squeezing gently before sliding down.

Bleary eyed, Sam wiped at his mouth clumsily and slid up Dean's body to press his open mouth over the other man's. Gasping quietly into the kiss he pressed his body hard against Dean's as his arms slid around him, clinging tightly. Frantic at first, Sam's mouth slowed as he settled - lips moving softly against Dean's as his tongue slid forward shyly.

Once Sam's tongue had slid into his mouth Dean sucked on it, greedily pulling the taste of himself from the man's mouth. His hands stroked along and down Sam's back, tracing the curves of muscle, moving back up to cup along Sam's neck. After a few moments he pressed his tongue against Sam's, urging it forward into the man's mouth to find any further hidden traces of his taste. Pulling back with a soft gasp a few moments later, Dean rested his forehead against Sam's and sighed softly. "God that was amazing..." he whispered into the man's lips.

Sam licked his lips and blinked his eyes open slumping back down a little so he could stare up at Dean's eyes. A tentative smile crept across his mouth, lips parting slightly and he turned slightly to slip his hands under Dean's splint and re-settle his leg on the table. "Did I hurt your leg?" Tilting his head back so he could see Dean's face Sam's fingers rubbed in small circles on Dean's thigh.

"No, not at all." Dean shook his head, and sighed blissfully, body much more relaxed than it had been in quite some time.

"That... you liked that right?" Dean asked, though he felt the question was basically already answered considering the fact that Sam had come in his pants. "It wasn't too... uncomfortable for you?"

Laughing softly, Sam could feel his cheeks heating up again "Not uncomfortable, no." His eyes moved over Dean's face. "You look ... happier now." The skin at the corner of his eyes wrinkled as Sam's smile grew and he sank down onto his ass and leaned hard against Dean's leg, head falling back.

"Can we stay here for a few minutes?" He liked the comfort, the closeness of being near Dean. Sam had never really thought much before about missing someone's touch but then he'd had nothing to compare it to.

"Yes," Dean said softly, tracing the curve of Sam's jaw. Pulling Sam closer Dean let their lips brush together once more, sighing softly. "Orgasms have this way of making the body for more relaxed, thus, happier." He chuckled softly and pulled Sam's scent in sharply through his nose.

"...and messier.." Sam shifted his hips uncomfortably and grinned. "Rest - then I'll carry you down to the river..." He closed his eyes for a few moments, loving the warmth of Dean's breath against his face. "I'm glad you're here," he murmured almost too quietly to be heard.

Dean's heart twisted slightly and he smiled, cupping the back of Sam's neck and squeezing softly. "I'm glad too."

-=-=-=-

It amused Dean, being carried to the river so easily by Sam. He had underestimated the man's strength but Sam carried him like he weighed nothing. It was nice to strip the rest of the way and enjoy the cool water of the river and seeing Sam's completely naked body glistening with water in the sunlight wasn't that bad either.

Dean caught his smile and he knew that things had changed between them, for good. They spent the good majority of the afternoon together at the riverbank before Sam carried him home. That night in bed Dean didn't roll away or shift to make room, the moment Sam was on the mattress beside him he slid toward him, arm wrapping over his chest.

This time Dean took his time to explore Sam's body with kisses and licks, shifting as much as could with the splint confining him. Dean didn't let his lips touch Sam's hard flesh this time, wanting to wait for a moment in which Sam might last long enough to thoroughly enjoy the touches. Dean knew they'd get there with some time.

Sam made crutches for Dean a priority and set about finding the right length and width of branch to cut in half and sand down. After he settled Dean on the front porch with something to eat and drink, he fetched his notebook and pencils, grinned and set about his work.

Sawing the straight branch in half Sam set about smoothing the would where it would touch Dean's body. Using a tongue and groove system he'd learned from his father he fashioned handles about two feet down from the shoulder support at the top which was simply the widest end of the branch.

Using one of the very old t-shirt he'd kept for rags Sam wrapped the supports at the top. All told it took hours but Sam was happy outside in the sunshine listening to Dean sometimes, watching him write other times.

Occasionally, Sam simply closed his eyes and let the sun warm his face while he listened to the soft scratch of Dean's pencil on the notebook paper.

-=-=-=-

With the addition of crutches Dean found the days slipping by even faster than before. He couldn't go far into the woods without getting over-tired but he enjoyed the ability to move about freely, only asking for Sam's help when he wanted an excuse to be pressed up against the man.

In this place there was no concept of time; hours ticked by and Dean didn't even notice. He enjoyed becoming closer to Sam, telling him things about his life back home and the way the world was.

Sam was a quick learner and always seemed eager to hear any stories Dean had to share. And on more than one occasion they explored each others bodies, spread out in the thick grass by the riverbank or stretched across the mattress. Even with the still occasional pain, Dean found himself beyond content. Being with Sam was one of the most relaxing things he had ever experienced.

Eventually, Sam had to get back into the routine of _living_ but he included Dean whenever possible. One evening Sam set Dean up at the table with a gigantic wooden bucket full of berries to clean, then lie out on the drying panel.

Flitting around behind Dean, keeping an eye on him - Sam started some more soup stock. He asked Dean about many things while he chopped and diced; did he have a car? What was his favourite book? Were there other flavours of granola? When he wasn't using his mouth for questions he was using it to learn about Dean's body, the flavors and textures of the man's body, the most sensitive areas on Dean's body, the places he liked most being touched. In turn, Sam encouraged Dean's touches - wanting more from him - knowing that Dean was holding back.

-=-=-=-

As the days shifted to weeks, Dean grew more accustomed to everything involved with living in this place, constantly gathering supplies, preparing for whatever may happen. Dean never minded Sam's questions, never minded anything that the man did or said regarding him.

The only troublesome thought he really had as time progressed was his growing affection for the man. Dean had always known how easily he tended to attach himself to someone and it seemed no different here with Sam. More and more often he found himself watching Sam with overly fond eyes, heart twisting when Sam would look up and smile at him. If he were honest with himself he would admit that there had always been the risk that he would fall for this man but facing it was nothing short of terrifying, especially knowing how unlikely it was for them to ever be more than this.

Days passed and Sam smiled more than he had for years. After all, there was someone to smile at. At night, Sam slid as close as he could to Dean, always wanting Dean to kiss him - even if they were too exhausted for much more he loved the feel of soft, swollen lips pressing against his as he relaxed into the warmth and comfort of bed.

Soon he found he expected to see Dean's face first thing in the morning and loved waking first so he could see the first glint of light in green eyes when Dean finally awakened to kisses and the gentle sweep of Sam's fingers.

Sam's life became more full - he'd always been happy at the cabin but now he was content as well. If he wasn't careful, he found himself wondering about the emptiness that would follow Dean's departure - but couldn't bring himself to let the shadow of that darken his days. He'd take what time he had. Knowing that Dean would return to his life simply made their moments together more special - something to be cherished.

Almost three weeks after waking up in Sam's cabin, Dean was feeling worlds better, both inwardly and outwardly. On one particularly sunny afternoon he found himself sitting in his usual chair out on the porch, scanning the forest for any sign of Sam. When it seemed the man was still off doing his usual afternoon exploring through the woods, Dean sighed and flipped open the notebook. It was a different one than he usually read from, one that Sam had found in the trunk the night before, and Dean was looking forward to having more from John to read about it.

This particular entry had no indication of the time of year at the top and the writing was rougher, smeared, as if written by a shaky hand. Dean frowned and tilted it toward the light, deciphering the blurry words.

 _This world is made of evil people and evil things. I can't rightly force Sam to grow up among the very people who were responsible for the death of his mother. My beautiful Mary, the love of my life. How will I live without her? How will I continue? I must for Sam, there is no other choice. My son will not be subjected to that death, to the horror. Here in this cabin he will grow and learn and never know how painful the world is._

Dean was surprised by how quickly the words sparked tears in his eyes. He hadn't realized that Sam's mother had been murdered. Dean's heart clenched and he looked up, blinking at the form of Sam standing there. "Oh. Hey, sorry I thought you were gonna be gone for awhile, you surprised me," Dean swiped at the moisture along his eyelids, looking to the side before smiling at Sam. "Good hike?"

Sam dropped the bag he had slung over his shoulder and knelt by Dean's side, lying his head against the arm of the chair and curling his fingers over Dean's shin. He slipped the splint off out of habit, scratching the skin and massaging Dean's muscles gently. "Are you okay?" Dean's eyes were glistening as though something had upset him.

Sighing softly under the touch, Dean smiled gently and reached out to settle his hand in its usual resting place in Sam's hair. "I just read your dad's first entry... about what brought him and you here," Dean shrugged and looked away. "Not sure why it worked me up so much... I guess it just hit some part of me..." Dean wet his lips and looked back at Sam.

"My mama... I - I don't remember her. Well," Sam's fingers moved gently on Dean's leg, "sometimes, I think I do - but I think I'm remembering what Dad told me. Guess that's what our minds do." Looking up he met Dean's gaze again, "it doesn't make me sad, why does it make you sad?"

"The way it's written=." Dean shrugged and rubbing his palm into his brow. "It's the way people work I suppose. It's easier to feel sad for someone you care about," he smiled softly and set the notebook to the side. "I'm glad you're not sad though."

"Do you miss your family?" Sam's eyes moved over Dean's face watching the changing emotions. He was still learning about Dean, what made him sad, what made him thoughtful. Picking the split back up off the floor he shifted to rest Dean's leg across his lap and re-fastening the splint. Dean's leg was already looking stronger, healthier and Sam couldn't help the sigh that escaped his lips.

Watching Sam for a few moments Dean considered and the question and finally looked away. "I haven't seen them in years. So yeah, I miss them. Otherwise I don't really miss anyone."

Dean's hand slid through Sam's hair softly, head tilting toward the side. "Do you miss your father?"

Nodding slowly Sam turned and looked out over the land in front of them. "Sometimes, well, before you came, I could swear I heard his voice when I was walking back up the hill. So strange ..." he shook his head and smiled. He knew it was crazy but it was probably because his Dad's voice was the only one he'd heard for so much time. He had to admit - the cabin was warmer now, more peaceful with the noise of another person. Sam felt as though he had a home again, a reason to get up in the morning and trudge down to the river for water and something to look forward to when he returned from his trips away.

Curling his fingers under Sam's jaw, Dean pulled him close to brush their lips together. "I'm very glad I've meet you," he said softly, sighing at the fluttering of emotions rising up in him. "You're something very different... but that's not a bad thing" He laughed softly and once more sealed their lips together.

Closing his eyes Sam's smile faltered, "I'll hear your voice too when you go I expect." Draping his arm over Dean's lap he leaned back . "It - I mean." He swallowed, knowing that once he said his thoughts out loud it would seem so much more real.

"I'll be lonely when you go." Tightness spread across Sam's chest a little even as the words left his mouth and Sam turned his head to rest it on Dean's lap. "But ... that's the way things go right?" His voice was soft, strained and tight in his own ears. "My Dad used to say that sometimes we're just meant to have some people for a short amount of time...to learn something from them."

Sam closed his eyes against the stinging he could feel behind them. "Maybe...I was supposed to learn... how to love." Afraid to look up at Dean, Sam rubbed his cheek against the other man's strong thigh and tightened his fingers over Dean's leg.

Something twisted and clenched against Dean's heart and he blew out a long breath, trying to stifle the upset to his emotions. "Why don't you come with me?" He asked softly, staring down at Sam's hair. "You could live in my place, you could carve things, sell them... I could teach you how to live in the world." The more Dean thought about the idea the better it sounded. He didn't want to think about leaving Sam behind and feeling that way after only three weeks had to mean _something_.

"That's not what my Dad wanted." Sam shifted to his knees. "And I don't belong there any more than you belong here. No education, no experience with working anywhere, no money."

He sighed and forced a smile onto his face. "Who'd entertain the raccoon who steals my food." Laughing softly he reached up to cup Dean's cheek. "You could come and visit me sometime ... if you wanted to. I expect once you get back to your friends," Sam shrugged, "this will all seem like a bad dream."

Dean blinked at Sam, stomach sinking low. It wasn't as if he could stay, but he thought Sam might ask, and Dean wasn't entirely sure about the not being able to stay. Dean shook his head, sending the thoughts away. Sam had already accepted the fact that Dean was leaving, Dean shouldn't be the one having issues. "I think I'd like to get up for awhile, walk around." Dean smiled briefly at Sam before reaching to the side to grab at his crutches.

Waiting until Dean had already taken a couple of steps Sam blurted out "stay." He wasn't even sure if Dean heard him - it was so hard to ask ... it meant hearing _no_ and all the reasons why it wouldn't work.

"You could stay here," he said again, barely above a whisper - hands clenched into fists in his lap, "with me. I could take care of you... teach you.".

Staring down at the grass in front of him Dean sighed and rested his weight on his good leg, using the crutches for balance. "All my friends and probably my family think I'm dead," Dean said softly and his mind supplied _not that I care_.

"It's not fair to let them think that." Dean nearly choked on the words, feeling like he was lying more now than he ever had before. Some part of him couldn't allow himself to be so selfish. Dean's eyes burned with the prick of tears and he pushed the crutches forward, half hopping to the edge of the grass before dropping down hard on his ass with a slight groan.

Moving quickly, Sam was at Dean's side in a few moments. "You okay? I'm sorry I asked; . it was stupid. I knew that - I mean, I get it- you're right." His hand hovered above Dean's back for a few seconds then settled and Sam tugged the other man closer then into his arms.

Nuzzling into Dean's hair, Sam bit hard on his bottom lip for a little while - chasing away the tears that were threatening. "I got you now," he whispered.

Dean said nothing, not trusting his voice to work against the tears streaming down his cheeks. He didn't think he was right, not at all, but he knew it was the decent thing to do. Dean leaned into Sam's body and exhaled slowly, lifting a hand to wipe at the tears on his cheeks. After a few more minutes in which he tried to shake off the too heavy emotions, Dean cleared his throat and said softly, "I'm not leaving right now. There's still time."

Time for what Dean wasn't certain, but he hoped that Sam wasn't going to shut him out now, after Dean had just shot him down.

"I know," Sam murmured.

Drawing away from Dean a little Sam reached up and wiped Dean's face with the backs of his fingers. "Want to go down to the river later, it's really pretty at night - the moon should be full...." Smiling Sam pushed all the hurt and loneliness away. _Time for that later._

Kissing Dean's cheek, Sam smiled against the warm, damp flesh. "I like bringing you back to bed after you've been in the river - you're always cold... and you want to get close to me..." And close felt like a pretty good idea to Sam.

Forcing himself to ignore the sadness settling over his shoulders, Dean nodded and smiled. "That sounds like a great idea. I think tonight we should try something new." Dean's eyes lit up slightly and he leaned into the man, grazing his lips along Sam's neck. "If you'd like."

Humming softly, skin and body responding immediately to Dean's touch Sam couldn't help but smile. "I like new things ... what is it?"

Sam was especially fond of new things that were prefaced by the brush of Dean's lips on the sensitive flesh of his neck.

"I'd like to touch... lower," Dean said softly and let his fingers fall to Sam's thigh, sliding along the pant fabric up toward Sam's crotch. Sucking at the wide expanse of skin Dean shifted until he was leaning heavily into Sam's chest.

"Do you understand... what I mean by lower?" He murmured, letting his palm slid down the front of Sam's worn pants, prodding his fingers along the area he was referring too.

Sam's body jolted at the touch, the air rushed out of his lungs and he rubbed his open mouth against Dean's neck. "Mmhmm, if you want, whatever you want." Sam's hips twitched, his muscles quivering under Dean's hands. "Trust you," he murmured against Dean's flesh. "River first?"

Sam's heart sped up a little, he liked watching Dean in the water - his skin was pale in the moonlight and glistened when it was wet. "I like watching you wet." He sucked Dean's ear lobe into his mouth and hummed quietly with pleasure.

Eyes fluttering for a moment, Dean nodded and moaned quietly. "Yes, river first."

He allowed Sam to pull him up from the ground and smiled as he leaned into him, head tilting up to slide their lips together. In the three weeks since they'd been together, Sam had gotten to be a _very_ good kisser. Dean sighed softly into Sam's lips before shifting back slightly. "And I think you'll like what I have in mind. You'll see." He grinned at Sam before leaning in to kiss him once more.


	4. Chapter 4

There was only one night that Dean was left alone in the cabin and he'd been less than pleased with the idea when Sam had mentioned it in passing a little over a month after he'd first turned up in Sam's life.

Apparently, as winter wasn't too far off, Sam needed to begin gathering a meat supply to make jerky and other various items. Dean understood that winters in the Ozarks could be deadly but sleeping in the bed by himself was almost too much to handle. There actually wasn't much sleeping involved since Dean spent the entirety of the time worrying over Sam, and then worrying over why he was worrying so much. Truth of the matter stood that over the past four weeks Dean had come to know Sam on a level few humans ever got to know each other. Without the pressure of the outside world pushing in on them, Dean was free to simply _learn_ Sam.

It was a terrifying and thrilling prospect all at once. And though Dean looked forward to every day he got to know a little bit more about Sam, he also began to dread them and the fact that they brought him constantly one step closer to leaving.

The leaves on the trees were fading color, shifting to light browns and reds, and it was just as gorgeous as the all green that it had been when he first arrived. But Dean registered none of these things outside the constant worry for Sam while he was gone. And because he didn't fall asleep until nearly dawn, he was still passed out when Sam arrived home. So when Dean did wake later in that day he spent a fair amount of the afternoon watching Sam sleep on the bed beside him, face peaceful and smooth, and something twisted inside Dean with the word _love_ following closely behind it.

-=-=-=-

Sam knew that it was going to be a big storm when he looked out the window one morning. The dark gray clouds were smeared across the mountain tops - Sam always thought of it as smeared paint - and he knew that they might be stuck inside the cabin or at least near the cabin for a few days.

Heading out before Dean was even awake, Sam left a note saying he'd be back late afternoon. He wanted to gather some of the late berries, get some cactus from the plains and then finally, bring the water for a few days back up to the cabin.

The thing about mountain storms was they were unpredictable and Sam was still about two miles away from the cabin when the storm hit. Taking cover under some trees for a while Sam waited out the first wave of wind and rain then headed straight down to the river. Even though it was still only late afternoon the storm clouds had darkened the sky already.

By the time Sam was hauling the water up the steep incline from the riverbank he was exhausted, soaked and shivering. The warm light of the lantern through the cabin window was a welcome beacon in the near pitch black of the stormy night. Stumbling up onto the wooden porch Sam dumped the closed water containers down against the outside wall and shoved the door open to stagger inside to the warmth of the cabin.

Dean had been pacing around using one crutch from the moment the storm stared, throwing open the door at random intervals to peer out into the storm. Fear and concern nagged at him so strongly he could hardly eat anything.

If something happened to Sam out there, no one would know. And Dean couldn't go searching for him because he'd only traveled as far as the river and there was no way he be able to track any sort of steps the man might have taken. When the door finally opened it was nearly pitch black outside minus the occasional flash of lightning and Dean dropped the crutch in favor of half limping to Sam's drenched form, "Jesus _Christ_ Sam I've been so fucking worried. Are you okay? God you're so fucking drenched, c'mon get out of these." Dean tugged at Sam's wet shirt clinging to his chest.

"Dean." Sam smiled crookedly and pushed his hair back out of his eyes. "M'fine ... just wet and cold. Wanted to make sure we had enough of everything, the storm might settle in for a few days." He eyed Dean's leg as he tugged his shirt up over his head. "Don't hurt yourself - is it feeling better?" His muscles contracted in a long shudder as the heat of the cabin warmed his skin. Sam reached out, pressing a cool palm against Dean's flushed cheek. He missed him when he was gone for so long.

"Actually right now it really hurts cause I've been pacing around all damn day," Dean grumbled, nerves still flaring slightly. He stepped forward to lean against Sam's chest, taking weight off his bad leg and attempting to warm the man.

"You know anything could have happened to you and I'd have no way to find you. I would rather have starved then risk you." Dean blew out a low breath and tilted his head up to Sam. "And all you leave is a note. God, my poor nerves." He huffed and tried a step back, wavering slightly in his spot.

Stepping forward quickly Sam slid his arms under Dean's and took his weight. "Dean..." even though his teeth were still chattering his lips twitched into a smile, "you were worried, That's _sweet_." Teasing tone aside Sam was genuinely touched at Dean's concern.

"I was fine, Dean... I've been doing this a long time. I mean, I almost got hit by a branch but that's not a big deal." Sam tightened his arms around Dean, holding him up and walking him backwards. "I'm _very_ cold though probably need some first aid." Sam grinned.

Unable to fight the grin tugging on his lips, Dean sighed and looked up at Sam. "Well I can help warm you up." He wrapped his arms around Sam's body, fingers sliding along the skin. "I think I can start up a fire, you want to get some things for us to lay on in front of it?"

Dean liked the idea of helping out. He'd made Sam teach him how to start the proper fire in the stove and he wanted to show off his skills for the man.

"Oohh okay, that sounds perfect. I'll make a bed you fire up the stove." Smiling, Sam backed out of the room watching Dean move about the cabin. Dean had made a real effort to learn how to do things around the place and it made Sam's heart ache a little to watch him.

Shedding his wet clothes and hanging them over the footboard of the bed to dry Sam yanked the mattress off the bed and wrestled it out into the main room of the cabin. Darting back into the bedroom he emerged quickly with the quilt and dove onto the bed to roll himself up in the quilt.

With the fire all set, Dean turned back to the man and chuckled fondly. Sam had this tendency to not be bothered by being naked and honestly, Dean never complained about the fact. He had caught a faint glimpse of the man before he'd slid into the blankets and Dean felt familiar heat crawling up through him. "Comfy?" He asked softly, fingers curling around his shirt hem to pull up and off. A moment later he had his pants and underwear down, shifting to drop onto the mattress beside Sam to tug them rest of the way off. Sam had a way of shaking any inhibitions Dean might have had and he thought he might never stop marveling at the way Sam had changed bits and pieces of him without even knowing.

Flipping open his blanket nest, Sam whipped his arms out and tugged Dean inside quickly, "don't let the heat out," he mumbled and pressed his cold flesh up against Dean's. Moaning happily Sam wrapped himself around the other man. "You're so warm," he murmured against Dean's neck.

"And you’re so cold," Dean huffed, pleased despite his protest. Dean worked his good leg between Sam's, nudging the man's head up until their lips could brush together. "I missed you today," he said softly, relaxing into the cool lines of Sam's chest.

"Good." Sam's shivering subsided as the heat of Dean's body warmed him through. "What did you do all day? Did you write?" Sometimes, Sam tried to guess what Dean had been doing while he was gone; he liked to imagine Dean in the cabin and getting down to the riverbank. He liked to imagine Dean ... _there_.

"Not today, was too worried to write," Dean said softly, hand stroking softly along Sam's back. "I read a little in the beginning. I think I've finished everything your dad had written," he rolled his shoulders slightly, oddly sad that there would be no new things to read involving Sam, though he felt more connected to the man through all the words.

"Feels good that you read all that." Sam shifted closer and rubbed the cool tip of his nose just below Dean's jaw, "makes me feel like if something ever happened to me someone would care...miss me ... you know?" It had never occurred to Sam before that he could disappear without ever having had an impact on anyone. Now, he was _too_ aware of his own presence and, at least, what he hoped it meant to Dean. It changed things. And some things couldn't be changed back.

"I will miss you," Dean whispered, fingers tightening on Sam's back. On most occasions he tried not to think about how very much he would miss this man but it was too clear in his mind. Dean didn't even know if he could go back to his life, knowing that there was something _more_ out there.

"Sam... I..." sighing softly Dean closed his eyes and breathed in the faint smell of Sam mixed with rain water. "I love you," he whispered, throat tight around the words he'd only thought and never voiced.

Sam held his breath for a few moments then sighed and pressed a gentle kiss on Dean's shoulder. "I love you," he mumured then pulled back so he could see Dean's face. "See? He was right. Dad - people are given to you for a little while so you learn." His voice broke a little and he closed his eyes tightly.

"When I was caught in the storm - I kept thinking about you here, waiting for me." Sam's voice was barely audible over the sound of the rain pelting down on the cabin roof. "I just kept thinking _only half a mile more to Dean_. _Just over that hill is where Dean is, just a few more minutes and I can hold Dean._ " Sliding his lips up the hard line of Dean's jaw Sam kissed and mouthed his way toward the other man's lips. "It will be so much further to come back ... when you're not here," he murmured right before catching Dean's bottom lip between his teeth and tugging gently.

Dean pressed forward, transforming the twist and clench of his heart into a rough kiss. His mind was chanting a steady _don't leave, don't leave_ and he chased the words away but rolling their bodies, sliding on top of Sam as his tongue shoved forcefully into the man's open mouth. Hearing Sam say those things made him hate himself a little, wishing he was strong enough to just say _fuck the world_ and live out the rest of his time here, content with Sam, as his something to come home to. Dean curled his fingers into Sam's hair and tightened them, ignoring the slight sting in his leg in favor of pressing hard into the man's rapidly warming flesh.

Letting out a muffled groan of surprise, Sam's body thrilled at the urgency of Dean's movements, the fierce kiss and the weight of his body. His hands moved quickly to settle on the small of Dean's back, Sam's favourite spot. He loved the gentle slope of Dean's ass and the dip at the bottom of his back, the heat of his flesh.

Gasping into Dean's mouth, Sam slid his tongue forward, moving the tip teasingly along the top of Dean's teeth then shoved past the other man's lips. Arching up into the heat of Dean's body, Sam let his hands slide lower to cup the cheeks of Dean's ass, fingers curling into the firm muscle. Already hard, _God_ \- Dean did that to him so quickly, Sam rolled his hips up, seeking out the friction he'd learned to enjoy so much.

Rolling his hips down into Sam's body, Dean moaned into the kiss and opened his mouth wider, allowing Sam to probe deep. A small shudder wracked his shoulders as he inhaled sharply and caught the strong scent of Sam, returning with the heat of his body. Sliding his hips forward once more, Dean repeated the moan as their cocks brushed together in a flare of heat that swirled rapidly up his spine.

Pulling back from the kiss, Dean panted softly and peeled his eyes open to stare down at Sam. "Feel what you do to me? No one's ever affected me like you do." Dean dropped a hand from Sam's hair, tracing Sam's slightly swollen lower lip and pulling down.

Sliding his hand forward then between them, Sam curled long fingers around Dean's swollen shaft. Closing his eyes for a moment, he swallowed as his heart started to race. "Dean? You said there was more." he kissed Dean's bottom lip. "More we could do," he murmured then dragged his tongue along the man's bottom lip. Just saying the words out loud made Sam's heart beat so fast it felt like it might take flight and tear out of his chest.

Swallowing thickly, Dean trailed his tongue after Sam's, dipping forward to catch his lips in another forceful kiss. His hips rocked into Sam's firm grasp, a moan working its way into their kiss.

After a few minutes he pulled back once more to gaze down at the man, fingers slipping along the slope of his neck. "More besides the fingers?" He asked softly, watching the arousal play in Sam's eyes. "That would be sex. All the way sex," Dean's heart skipped a beat, thinking about being _in_ Sam, connecting them in the final way.

"It's okay if you don't want -" Sam kissed the corner of Dean's mouth, "but I - I -" his breath stuttered in his chest and he gasped out, "I want to."

They'd spoken about it, just like so many other things. And Sam hadn't been able to stop thinking about it. He might never have another chance and there would never be another _Dean_ \- he was sure of that much.

"Don't want to?" Dean arched his eyebrows and laughed, shaking his head. "Trust me Sam, I _really_ want to." He dropped his head to suck along Sam's neck, lingering on the spots he knew would affect the man more. There was so much he liked about the way Sam reacted in these moments. The gentle writhe of his body, the way his touches started unsure until he gained confidence, the complete lack of a mind-to-mouth filter that was so ingrained in normal society.

Dean had a hunch he'd spend the rest of his life comparing any other encounters with Sam, and no one would ever be as good. Dean shifted down the bed slightly as his lips trailed along the broad chest, sucking first one nipple into his mouth than the other, grazing his teeth along the sensitive nubs until they hardened.

Moans and soft rumbles filled the space between them and Sam's body moved fluidly against Dean's. His hips met Dean's thrusts, spine arched up to push his chest harder against Dean's mouth, his head fell back against the mattress. Tangling one hand in Dean's short hair, Sam gasped as he shuddered, fingers still sliding along Dean's hard cock. It was perfect and Sam loved the feel of it in his hand, the heat that radiated off Dean's flesh and the way the muscles jumped when Sam's lips moved over Dean's.

Growling softly, Sam pushed Dean back and rolled over on top of him, bracing himself just above the other man's body. "You're beautiful," he whispered, hair falling forward and brushing against Dean's skin.

Staring up at Sam with slightly wide eyes Dean smiled softly and reached up to tuck the loose strands of hair behind Sam's ears. It was rather pointless, since they only fell forward again but Dean would look for any excuse to touch Sam's hair. "You're too kind," he teased, hands sliding down to trace the muscles shaping Sam's chest. "Don't think I'll ever forget you," he whispered, smile falling from his lips as he gazed up at the man, his lover, body shifting beneath him to touch as much as possible.

Moving slowly, deliberately, Sam straddled Dean's thighs and sank down against him. Their cocks slid together, hot and smooth and Sam moaned - mouth moving frantically across Dean's chest. Teeth clamping down on Dean's nipple, Sam tugged hard running his hands up Dean's arms until their fingers could twine together. The way Dean's spine twisted beneath Sam, the way his hips rocked up made Sam's breath leave his body in a long shuddering sigh.

"More," Sam whispered as he gasped in some air, "I want more." Rolling his own hips, Sam slid his balls along Dean's cock, muscles quivering with _need_.

"Y-yeah," Dean gasped out the word, body curving as much as possible up into Sam's. "Need to prepare you, like before... with my fingers." He panted the words, eyes fluttering as Sam once more rocked their bodies together and heat washed through him almost on overload. Every part of him was humming in anticipation and he dropped his hands to Sam's thighs, curling around the muscle and tightening.

Sam's eyes widened, "I like it when you do that..." he mumbled as he let his head fall to Dean's shoulder, "a lot," he added and ground his crotch hard against Dean's cock.

The muscles in his thighs jumped under Dean's grip and Sam kissed and sucked, licked his way along Dean's collarbone to his neck. Sucking hard on the skin as his body writhed and slid against the other man's, Sam whined quietly, _wanting_ not even aware of the sounds he made.

Moaning under Sam's lips burning against his skin, Dean slid his hands slowly up Sam's thighs, looping round to trace along the curve of his ass. "Me too," he murmured, body in a constant gentle rock up for more friction, more heat, _more_. "God Sam you have no idea how fucking much I want to be inside you," he nearly whispered the words around a moan, blowing out a low breath.

The words ate away at the last of Sam's control. His skin just wasn't _enough_ , he couldn't touch Dean _enough_. Spread out over him like a blanket of heat - Sam molded himself to Dean's curves, held onto the lines of his body, nails digging in to hang on to him. Sliding his swollen shaft against Dean's, Sam moaned out the sounds that made Dean's hips launch up off the mattress. It was the most perfect heat, soft sliding skin, frantic wet kisses and Sam's head was ringing with the sound of the storm throwing itself against the cabin walls.

Dean kissed Sam back just as eagerly as the man was kissing him, arms sliding up to wrap hard around him and tug him close. He was quite content to allow them to simply be like this but his body was persistent and struggled to move up against Sam. "Can't prepare you... like this." He chuckled roughly and rolled his hips up into Sam's body.

Dean's words chipped away at the edges of Sam's conciousness. Bleary-eyed, muscles weak and wanting, Sam slid off Dean's body, rolling to pull Dean over on top of him. The weight of his lover's body - _God_ his lover - sent Sam's lust through the roof. Pinned down, held by Dean he writhed and shimmied closer-further- _more_. "Dean.." he breathed out the name - half question, half statement and all longing.

"S'gonna be so good Sammy," Dean murmured, voice thick as he shifted on the man's body, hand drifting up Dean traced the edges of Sam's mouth with two fingers, pulling down on the kiss swollen lips. When Sam's mouth parted, Dean dipped forward enough to whisper, "get them wet," into Sam's ear and press his fingers forward into the warm heat of Sam's mouth, body rocking down into Sam.

Shivers darted down Sam's neck. His long fingers curled tightly around Dean's wrist as he sucked the man's fingers into his mouth slowly. Licking the salty sweet skin Sam moaned quietly, free hand curling around Dean's neck so his fingers could move through soft hair. Lashes fluttering to his cheeks, Sam's tongue whirled over Dean's skin, lapping at each fine line and gentle curve of his digits. Just like every time Dean touched him, Sam was _so_ hard he almost hurt; fiery need was pressing at him, pushing his hips forward even as he sucked long and hard on Dean's fingers and covered them in saliva.

"Good," Dean murmured and pulled his fingers free, a soft pant falling from his system as his fingers nearly tingled from Sam's touches. Shifting slightly to the side, Dean let his hand drop low between Sam's legs, lips seeking out Sam's as his wrist nudged apart Sam's legs.

Dean knew the man liked things a little rough, probably more than he even realized, and Dean decided to test the theory by curling one finger in and shoving the other in one quick thrust all the way up inside muscles he'd only touched a few times before. Dean pulled back from Sam's lips to watch his features shift under the sudden intrusion.

It burned and pleasure shot up Sam's spine like wildfire. Tight muscle stretching around Dean's fingers, Sam's breath hitched in his chest then he caved and sucked in a huge amount of air. Head thumping down aginast the mattress, cheeks aflame Sam's hands slammed against Dean's back, scratching as they slid down to his ass. Dean's name fell from his lips in between kisses that Sam managed to bite and nip - steal from Dean's mouth.

For every part of his body that protested the breach of Dean's fingers, there was another that was vibrating with anticipation. "W..Want." Sam's throat was dry, sand papery. "Want to be yours." It started as a moan and ended as a whisper - Sam's hips snapping into Dean's warmth them back to settle his ass on his lover's fingers.

"Already are," Dean insisted softly and twisted his finger inside Sam until no traces of discomfort remained. Falling down to suck yet another hard kiss against the man's lips, Dean moaned and shoved his second finger roughly forward. He knew it had to burn for Sam and Dean adjusted once more on the mattress until he could work his free hand forward to wrap around Sam's cock and stroke slowly, enough to keep the heat burning in his veins.

"Okay?" Dean murmured into the kiss, stretching both fingers in gentle scissoring parts, wrist twisting gently to build up that pleasure in his lover once more.

Crying out, voice harsh wrapped up in tenderness, Sam was torn between the hot palm on his cock, twisting and gliding over his sensitive flesh and the fading burn in his ass that he knew led to all the pleasure Dean could give him. Sinking his teeth into Dean's shoulder, Sam whined against the skin, lips slick with spit as they dragged up Dean's neck and along his jaw to rub roughly over stubble to kiss-swollen lips.

Everything about the way Sam moved beneath him shook Dean in a way he almost wasn't prepared for. His body hummed with _need_ and he half straddled Sam's thigh to rock against warm flesh and ease the ache in his crotch.

"'Another?" He asked against Sam's lips, groaning quietly when the man did little more but barely nod and thrust his tongue hard into Dean's mouth. Shifting his fingers to make room, Dean added the third finger much more slowly, allowing Sam to adjust. They hadn't used this many before and the last thing Dean wanted was to hurt Sam in any way.

Certain he knew the answer to why people did this, why have sex, Sam shuddered under Dean's hands. He felt full - the pain subsided quickly and he could focus just on the feeling.

Sam had been Dean's from nearly the moment Dean had first touched him. This just cemented the bond. Sam didn't even try to contain his emotion, stifle the noises he wanted to make. What happened ... happened and judging by the look on Dean's face - his flushed cheeks and the tug of his lips under his own teeth, Dean wanted Sam. Sam liked being wanted.

"Dean," Sam lunged forward off the mattress clinging to the other man, "more, Dean," he whispered, desperate and begging. Sam didn't know when the teasing stopped and the sex began - to him - it was all the most erotic, sensual thing he'd ever experienced.

"God, I want you," Dean groaned and twisted his fingers once more before pulling back, considering Sam with lust-hazed eyes. "Roll onto your side," Dean murmured, settling on the mattress beside Sam's body. He knew his leg would protest kneeling against Sam's body like that and this way he could control the thrust forward, ensure Sam wouldn't suffer at all. Dean lifted his palm to his mouth and licked in quick, long strokes, ensuring he'd have enough saliva to slick himself. "Are you sure about this?" He asked softly, pressing a kiss to Sam's shoulder.

Sam couldn't even say anything the first time he tried to speak. Clearing his throat then swallowing he turned, nerves ratcheting up a notch, "m'good." He was kind of glad he was facing away from Dean so that the other man couldn't see the tension building in him. Each step they'd taken was one more thing Sam would never have again, something he would miss when Dean was gone - something he would lose and even thinking that - Sam knew that he would take what Dean would give him. "I'm sure," he whispered and twisted back trying to find Dean's mouth again.

For several long moments Dean let his lips slid along Sam's, hips shifting forward, fingers curled loosely around the achingly hard base of his cock. Pulling away with the tug of Sam's lower lip between his teeth, Dean sighed and settled his lips into the crook of Sam's neck. His hands worked low on his lover's body, pulling apart mounds of flesh to line himself up at the puckered ring of muscle. After a moment of ensuring his bad leg wasn't in too uncomfortable a position, Dean opened his mouth to suck at Sam's neck as his hips moved forward. Heat shot through him like sparks the second the tip of his cock slid inside Sam and Dean moaned softly, forcing himself to pause the moment the crown was completely inside. He lifted an arm to wrap around Sam's waist, fingers rubbing softly along his abs before curling loosely around his cock and stroking slowly.

"S..Stop,Dean," Sam's muscles cramped, the burning increased even as Sam's body opened up to Dean's cock. "D..ean." Panting softly Sam shifted slightly, hissing out a sharp breath then turned, eyes wild, looking for Dean's eyes.

"Hurts..." he murmured, "a little." Sam reached down blindly and curled his fingers over Dean's wrist. "Talk to me," he whispered with a voice tinged with fear, "or kiss me." He didn't want to stop, didn't want to push Dean away.

Dean's heart clenched slightly, hating to see the pain in his lover's eyes. Releasing his hold on Sam's cock Dean's lifted his fingers to caress the man's cheek. "It'll get better, I promise," he insisted, dipping forward to brush his lips over Sam's.

"I love you Sam," he murmured against the man's lips before pressing their lips more firmly together, tongue flicking out to trace along the curve of Sam's lips. He continued to gently stroke Sam's body, soothing him, ignoring any heat building in him along with the urge to _move_.

The kisses, firm presses of Dean's hands, pushed the pain further and further away until it was just at the edges of Sam's awareness. "Love you,' Sam finally whispered with a hoarse voice. Still reaching for Dean's mouth Sam rocked his hips back, sinking Dean's heat further into his ass, _into_. him. Dean's body tensed for a moment - Sam thought he was trying to hold back - and then he felt them _both_ relax. "S'okay," Sam whispered, licking Dean's lips gently, "move."

Moaning against Sam's mouth, Dean let his arm once more hook around his lover's waist, pulling him in as his hips shifted forward. It felt like it took _forever_ but eventually Dean was completely surrounded by the flaring heat of Sam's body.

"God..." he murmured, eyes fluttering as Sam's muscles clenched instinctively around him. "You're _so_ tight," Dean breathed out in a slow gasp. Swallowing hard Dean gently rocked his hips, testing the pressure encasing him.

It was more than Sam had imagined. Ever since Dean had mentioned it- the first time he'd fingered Sam open - Sam had wanted this. He knew it was crazy to feel the way he did about Dean, _knew_ that he was setting himself up to be broken in half when Dean left him. But ... there was so much inside Sam that _wanted_. Lust was driving him further and further away from rationality. This was his chance to have love, sex, and it just didn't seem like he should pass up on the chance to have any of it. At least, that's what he would try and convince himself of .. later. Dean's cock ... the heat .... pulled Sam away from his thoughts once more. The feeling was strange, _so full_ , and the way Dean was pressed up against him was perfect. The heat between their bodies warmed Sam through and through.

"Gonna move," Dean growled softly, waiting to ensure Sam was okay with that before slowly sliding his hips back. Sam's body clenched around him the entire pull out, tugging a low moan through Dean's chest as he stopped halfway and slid back in. Dean sucked in a quick breath, steadying himself against the quick and sudden slam forward of his orgasm.

Dean had to stop, force the release back, before pulling back the rest of the way. "Fuck Sam... so good," he gasped, biting down at Sam's neck as he pushed back into Sam with a little more force. He knew that the moment all discomfort faded from Sam his lover would really experience how amazing it could be, feeling connected this way. Sliding back, Dean sucked on the place his teeth had connected before rocking slowly all the way back in.

Sam's body responded in fits and starts at first, his cock twitching as it swelled and grew heavy again. The panting returned as Dean pulled back and Sam struggled to draw his lover back to him. "More..." the word was a plea more than anything, and Sam meant it.

Reaching back he tangled his fingers in Dean's short hair tugging him closer. The way Dean's body shuddered against his back was making Sam harder than he'd ever been. Feeling so full, so _close_ to Dean made his heart skitter out of control and sweat broke out on Sam's forehead. Settling his hand on the mattress, bracing himself, Sam pushed back hard against Dean's cock, circling his hips slowly and curling his fingers over his swollen shaft.

Tightening his hold on Sam's abs, Dean pulled Sam hard down into his body, thrusting roughly up into him. Dean buried his head into Sam's flesh, sucking in quick breaths through his nose as he automatically pulled back and thrust forward. It felt more intense than any other time with any other person, Sam was so _responsive_ to each little movement and Dean angled his hips, thrusting up hard to hit that spot that would send darts of pleasure through Sam's body. Head tilting up Dean let his tongue flick out to trace along the curve of Sam's earlobe, sucking the tender flesh into his lips. "Fuck, you're so amazing," Dean murmured around a moan, continuing a steady thrusting into his lover’s body.

One certain thrust, a certain angle and Sam's heart blew apart in his chest. He'd never felt anything like it before. Eyes watering he slammed them shut and cried out Dean's name. White fogged his vision, shivers ran down his body in waves and Sam's hips rolled back against Dean again and again as he writhed under the flood of pleasure. "Wh..what was that...?" Sam's voice was small, amazed, hair sweat-damp and plastered to his forehead and cheeks as he turned over his shoulder to gaze at Dean.

Letting his hips slow to a steady, deep thrust, Dean murmured, "prostate. Meant to feel that good..." he shifted slightly, twisting until his lips could melt against Sam's in a familiar slide. Dean's heart felt so full he thought it was a wonder he could manage any words at all. Each drive forward connected them, sent sparks up Dean's spine, and he curled his body as much as possible to melt into Sam's. Dean's tongue thrust forward in time with his hips, arm flexing as he pulled Sam's body into him.

Each thrust sent Sam's hips forward. Sucking hard on Dean's tongue Sam strained to keep kissing him, wanting his lips against his lover's, wanting the wet heat and friction of their mouths. His body was alive, in motion, writhing and twisting against Dean's hot flesh. Hair plastered all over his face Sam blinked a few times - eyes wide and glistening in the darkness. Shoving himself back at Dean, Sam's fingers curled round his own cock to work the engorged flesh slowly. Stretching an arm back Sam curled his fingers into Dean's ass, pulling him forward. "Harder," Sam whispered in between gasps for breath.

With a gentle nudge Dean pressed Sam slightly down into the mattress, bringing his hand down to curl around Sam's hips and drive roughly forward. Dean leveraged himself up as much as possible and pulled back, slamming hard enough into his lover to drive him down into the bed.

A low growl left his lips as Sam's muscles once more clenched around him and Dean repeated the action. He set a steady pace, thrusting deep and hard into Sam, pushing them both closer to the edge. Working his free hand up, Dean twined his fingers in the silky locks of Sam's hair and tugged sharply, exposing his neck enough to dip forward and latch on, sucking hard enough to leave a mark. _Mine_. The thought raced through Dean's mind and his hips jerked roughly into Sam's body, another growl fading into a moan.

The way Dean ground him down into the mattress, the fierce movements, the possessiveness of his mouth - it all spun through Sam's brain. He felt drugged, sleepy and so alive at the same time. Pushing up onto his arms Sam arched his back as Dean drove into him. He spine was tingling, abs clenching, cock weeping against the mattress as he was pressed into it time and again by Dean's thrusts.

Heat began again, swirling deep inside him, a tempest fueled by the hundreds of ways he wanted Dean; wanted his lips, his hands, hard flesh inside him. As his orgasm began to grow, sweep through his body Sam clenched his muscles tight around his lover. Dean's flesh slid past that trigger inside of Sam once more and he launched forward, then pushed back, crying out yet again, Dean’s name over and over as the sounds dwindled away to small whispers and gasps. It was too much and smacked into Sam hard.

Fingers clawing at the mattress, muscles clenching impossibly tight around his lover's cock, Sam's balls drew up as his body jolted from the intensity of his orgasm.

Feeling and seeing Sam fall apart was always something that struck a cord in Dean, flashing something bright across his eyes. Not even a dozen shallow, jerky thrusts later he was coming, moaning Sam's name in one long exhale. The muscles around him were still clenched impossibly tight, milking everything he had and causing his entire body to shudder and shake with the intensity of it all. The moment he had nothing left he collapsed half onto Sam's body, panting harshly. Dean's heart was racing so fast, lungs expanding and contracting rapidly around inhales and Dean was fairly certain he could hear his blood rushing in his ears.

Pressed flat against the mattress, Sam held his breath for what seemed like hours then finally gasped in a lung full of air and reached behind him for Dean's hand, tangling their fingers together. _Stay_ was the word that ran through Sam's mind over and over, _stay with me now._ "Dean," was all he managed to get out with his scratchy weak voice.

Sighing softly Dean basked in the feel of the man, how complete they were in that moment, enjoying being inside him for several more long minutes before gently pulling out. His leg was nearly throbbing and he fell to the side with a soft gasp, eyes fluttering, mind spinning for a moment before things straightened out.

"You okay?" Dean asked softly, hand drifting down to massage slowly along Sam's ass.

The sound of Dean's gasp managed to reach Sam through his fog. "M'fine. Did.. you hurt yourself? Your leg?" Sam rolled under Dean's arm, body still over-heated and thrumming with pleasure. His fingers slid straight up to Dean's cheek to bring their eyes together, "was perfect," he murmured and leaned forward to kiss Dean softly.

"It was," Dean said softly and brushed his lips against Sam's. The pain his leg was mild, tolerable, and that fact alone seemed to make Dean's heart sink. He knew he was getting better, that things had a time line, a defined ending point, and then he would likely never see Sam again. Turning away from the man with a slow exhale Dean blinked the surprise prick of tears away. "I wish you could come with me," he said softly, voice hardly above a whisper.

"Is this the part where I ask you to stay again? Then we both feel awful for a while? Because the answer's always ... no." Sam nuzzled into Dean's neck and slipped his arm over his waist. "Let's not do that again. Let's just pretend that you're staying here, forever, with me."

His heart ached a little as he said the words. It wasn't just some crazy fantasy he'd cooked up anymore - it was somethign Sam really wanted now. "In a month or so the snow will fall and we'll pile all the quilts and blankets on the bed and keep each other warm. I can build a sled and we can see who runs faster _up_ the hill. Spring means we start planting and before you know it - it'll be summer again." He pressed up against Dean's side, lips rubbing kisses into his sweat-damp neck. "Just pretend. For a while." Closing his eyes Sam clenched his arms tight around Dean.

Pushing away slightly Dean rolled on his side, back facing Sam. Dean had suffered heartbreak before and it had come as a sudden, unexpected thing. This however, felt so much like his own doing it was nearly intolerable. Dean was going to be the one completely responsible for losing Sam and that hurt more than any other heartbreak could. It terrified him, that he could feel so overwhelmingly moved by someone after such a short time.

Closing his eyes did little to stop the now steady stream of tears and Dean mentally kicked himself, wishing he could live in this imaginary world that Sam was trying to keep them in, wishing he wasn't ruining what had been such a perfect moment. Biting down on his lip, Dean curled in on himself as much as his damaged leg would allow, trying to force away the intense sadness suddenly consuming him.

"Hey..." Sam tugged on Dean's shoulder until he managed to roll the other man back to face him. Kissing away some of the tears, Sam slipped both hands up through Dean's soft hair and smiled down at him. "I love you, Dean."

Curling his hand over the back of his lover's neck, Sam pulled him close against his chest, rocking gently on his side as his free hand soothed small circles on Dean's back. "I'm so lucky I found you," he murmured into Dean's hair, "even for a short while." And, that, above all else, was true. Sam wouldn't trade a single moment of the time that he'd spent getting to know Dean to stop an instant of heartache over him leaving.

Dean couldn't bring himself to form any words so he simply settled into Sam's body, failing badly in attempt to shake off the impending hollowness. He wasn't like Sam, he didn't see things through the same light. It was great, amazing, that he'd found Sam but this was it.

When he left he'd have to face all his friends, probably his family, and try to convince them that he was okay. Dean just _knew_ he'd spend the rest of his life regretting the choice to leave and yet, here he was, unable to be so utterly selfish. Dean wanted to tell Sam it might have been better off if he'd never found him, at least then Dean wouldn't be breaking someone else's heart as well as his own. But Dean could no longer imagine what life was like before he knew Sam, and he knew his pain was worth it regardless.

Sam lay there long enough to comfort Dean a little then pulled away and reached out for a towel that was warming by the stove. He cleaned himself up and mopped a bit at the damp spot on the bed looking sheepishly at Dean.

"I gotta right up next to you...it's wet over there." Snuggling up as close to Dean's side as he could Sam let out a long sigh. "You need anything for your leg?" The unspoken question every night was - _is your leg getting better?_. They both knew it was.

"I'm alright," Dean whispered, eyes not opening, body shifting into Sam's warmth. "Night Sam," he breathed the words, fingers grazing along warm flesh.

Biting his bottom lip to stop the slight quiver there, Sam closed his eyes drawing in as much of the scent of his lover as he could; committing it to memory.


	5. Chapter 5

The days still moved by but they seemed _heavier_ now, weighted down by the knowledge that Dean's leg was almost healed. It was good to watch Dean move around without the crutches, even though he still had a slight limp and Sam insisted that he not overdo it.

In the early mornings Sam could smell the cool fall air and knew that he'd have to suggest soon that it was time to guide Dean out to the major highway. Once the first snow covered the ground, the path would become too treacherous for them to navigate until spring. Sam had watched Dean take over jobs around the cabin, lightening his workload and often found himself watching Dean sadly. He was so caught up sometimes in how it might feel to be in the same moment alone - without Dean - that he would suddenly walk over and snatch Dean into his arms without a word between them. It didn't make his fear go away but it made it easier to ignore.

As time progressed too rapidly, Dean found himself looking for the little flares of pain his leg, pulling them too out of proportion just to extend his time. He had this hunch that Sam wasn't going to give him much notice. That one day Sam was just going to announce that this was the right time and suddenly he'd be facing the inevitable.

Each time Sam would pull him close, touch their lips, touch _him_ , Dean could feel his resolve waver. It was becoming harder and harder to remember all the reasons he _couldn't_ stay. Dean could tell Sam saw that in him, when their eyes would catch, when Dean would open his mouth and Sam would cut him off with a lingering kiss that made him breathless. Occasionally he felt as of Sam didn't even want him to stay and believing that somehow made it easier, though Dean knew it was untrue. Dean couldn't stay just like Sam couldn't come with him.

It was a cool morning when Sam's world started to unravel one breath at a time. Sam could see his breath in the air when he rolled over and poked his nose out from under the quilt they had burrowed under the night before. Bright sunlight poured through the window and Sam closed his eyes against it. It was _time_.

Shifting closer to Dean, heart thudding slower and slower as though it might actually stop, he wound his arms around Dean. "Dean," Sam whispered, knowing his lover was awake.

They'd spent so much time holding one another, touching, breathing the same air - Sam could feel Dean's muscles move differently when he was awake; he could hear the change in the pattern of his breathing.

"Dean, it's time to =" Sam hadn't expected it to be easy to say but he hadn't expected the pinch of pain that shot through his chest. "It's time to make the trip back." He breathed in and out a few times, stalling, swallowing down the tears that were threatening to fall. Sam's voice was deep when he continued, rough and battered by his sadness. "I can take you to the main road, it's a two day trip, you're... you're well enough now."

Something in Dean had told him what was coming the moment Sam had first formed his name. Pushing up on the mattress, Dean could only manage a small nod before sliding to the edge of the bed and dropping his legs over the side. _Detach yourself_ his mind screamed, coinciding with his heart pulsing _stay._ Sniffing softly Dean rubbed the heels of his hands into his eyes, gasping quietly before forcing out, "what do we need to pack?" He sounded cold and broken even to his own ears and Dean stared at the far wall in mild shock. He remembered waking up here, weeks ago, taking in this room, seeing Sam for the first time. Unable to stand the intense ache in his chest, Dean pushed of the bed and stumbled through the slightly freezing room until he could claim his pants and step into them.

Lying there in bed, Sam pressed his hand to the spot Dean had just left. The heat from his lover's body faded so quickly and with every second the sheets turned colder. The dull ache that had been present in Sam's chest for days became more focused, sharper, _he was losing Dean_. Knowing a moment would arrive _someday_ was so much different from the tangible evidence of it. The hard line of Dean's shoulders across the room and the unsteady way he moved as he dressed filled Sam's heart like a dead-weight. _Losing Dean_.

The first time he opened his mouth to speak there was no sound so he cleared his throat and sat up on the bed. "I got nearly everything ready, you just have to get your backpack organized." Running a hand through his hair Sam's eyes were glued to Dean's back - wanting so desperately for him to turn around and come back to the bed, "I'll carry all the supplies so there's no extra weight on your leg." His voice cracked on the last word and he turned to look out the window.

Dropping his gaze to his backpack still sitting along the side of the wall, Dean bent and snatched up his shirt, tugging it on over his head roughly. Tears streamed from his eyes and Dean willed himself to remain in control. Clearly there was no turning back now, this was his fate now. Dean walked slowly to his notebook, lifting it up and peering inside.

They'd forgotten all about the bottle of shampoo and Dean curled his fingers around it, pulling it up and swallowing thickly. "Did you want..." For the first time that morning Dean half turned to look at Sam, stepping forward. "To keep this?"

Catching sight of the look of pain in Sam's eyes, Dean lost his will to do any sort of _detaching_ and crossed the room in two quick strides, dropping onto his knees on the edge of the mattress. "Sam," he whispered, shoulders shaking for a moment before he let himself fall forward onto Sam's body. "Make me stay. Force me to. Tell me I don't owe anyone anything," he gasped in between the rough slide of his lips against Sam's.

"Your sister," Sam swallowed and winced as the pain of his sadness clenched the muscles tight in his throat. Tugging Dean tight against his chest Sam shook his head slowly, "you gotta write more, it's what you do." He sucked in a shaky breath, "and this is what I do..." it just felt far less important all of a sudden.

Sam stared over Dean's shoulder at the shampoo bottle. "I wanna keep it." he whispered, "the smell of you." So - when he woke up the first morning to a cold bed and that hollow feeling that he'd imagined Dean he could remind himself it was real. His eyes blurred with unshed tears and his bottom lip trembled for a few moments.

Squeezing the back of Dean's neck he smiled into his soft hair. "Come on... I'll make your favorite breakfast." It was on the tip of his tongue to say stay, stay forever, stay one more day, there's time, take me with you - anything that would put off the inevitable. The reality was that Dean had a world to return to and Sam... well, he didn't belong there. He figured that Dean might take him willingly because he cared, only to discover that he'd have to take _care_ of Sam and grow tired of him. Sam would rather Dean left loving him than ever _wanting_ to be away from him.

Dean slid back, pushing across the mattress and turning from Sam. It struck him as odd that Sam was constantly the voice of reason when it came to both of them, the way they could never be.

"I'm not hungry," he said softly and reached out for the notebook on the side table that he'd been using to write in. Lifting it, Dean thumbed through the pages before setting it back on the nightstand. "I hate this," he murmured, rubbing his palm into his forehead. "I want to stay. I can't imagine being without you," glancing over at Sam with watery eyes he shrugged. "Guess I'm not as strong as you. Maybe I just fell too hard, too fast." Dean turned back away and scratched along his thigh.

Sam couldn't look at those green eyes anymore. "Not stronger." Anger bubbled up inside Sam's chest. "Don't say that ... I just don't know how-" His voice softened and he pulled his knees up to his chest.

"It hurts. It hurts like I've never hurt before ... Like this ... It really feels like I could just lie down into this bed and never wake up. Breathing hurts, my hands are shaking." Sam threaded is fingers together, knuckles white under the strain.

"It feels like I'm gonna be sick." His voice faded away to nothing. He drew in a breath and let out a strangled sob. "How do I not love you when you're gone?" The sobs finally shook Sam's shoulders and he buried his head in his arms. "N..not strong."

Clambering across the bed Dean threw his arms around Sam's body, pulling him into his chest and holding him tightly. "Oh Sam..." he murmured softly, stroking a hand through his hair.

"Come with me. _Please_. You're right, I can't let my friends and family think-" Dean sucked in a quick breath and squeezed Sam roughly. "But you could come with me. I can teach you like you taught me. I love you Sam, so fucking much. Please, don't just let me go." Even as Dean said the words he knew Sam wouldn't say yes, and that it was ultimately unfair of him to keep pressing, but he had to try. Just once more.

"I c..can't. There's nothing for me to do there." He knew it - Dean knew it - the problem was that neither of them wanted to accept it. Sniffing and wiping at his face Sam sat back a little, "I'd feel trapped, I think. In the city. What would I do with myself all the time? I don't know how to live like you live. My Dad ... he wanted me to have a life like this, ya know?" Sam tucked his head into the crook of Dean's neck. "And it's where I ...it's my home...This is where my Dad lived and died." Sam's eyes closed again. The only home Sam had ever had were the four walls of the cabin and the people who'd lived in it.

"I know," Dean whispered and that was that, the truth cemented between them. There was no option, no way out of this. In a matter of hours now Dean would be rejoining civilization and Sam would be alone here.

"When should we go?" Dean asked, voice hollow, arms loosening and dropping from Sam's form. He wanted to tug Sam in, pin him to the bed and never leave but Dean had this feeling he'd loose the last of his resolve if they so much as kissed now.

"Now? Or tomorrow." Sam was still sitting there, blankets pooled round his hips, "if you stay though - " Sam sighed "I might just tie you up and keep you." Forcing a smile didn't work and the joke fell flat between them.

"Today, just get ready." Rubbing a hand down his face Sam reached out and ran his fingers down Dean's arm. _Solid_. _Still there_.

Glancing down at the fingers on his skin, Dean blinked a few times around tears before sliding off the bed and picking up his notebook once more. He trailed his fingers over the cover. "Is it alright if I take this or would you like to keep it?" Dean asked quietly, eyes fixed down. He wondered if he sounded as hollow and detached as he felt.

"You can take it." Sam brushed his hair back off his forehead, "I kinda think Dad would like that - knowing that a writer had his notebook. Will you - you'll keep his writing? I mean," Sam swallowed. "I guess it's not all that important but I would like knowing that you have it."

Sam scooted over to the edge of the bed and stood, letting the blankets fall back down on to the mattress. Already, Sam's brain was ticking off the last of everything; the last time he would get up with Dean in the room. Padding over to Dean, Sam pressed up against his back and wrapped long arms around his chest. "I _do_ love you... you believe me, right?" Sam rubbed his nose along the back of Dean's ear, "I don't want you to leave thinking that's not true." It was a whispered but he knew Dean could hear him.

Dean nodded and closed his eyes, trying to memorize the warmth of Sam's body around him, keep it a permanent thing in his mind. "I love you," he whispered, turning slowly in Sam's arms and reaching up to thread his fingers into the man's hair.

"I'm sorry," he swallowed, staring up at Sam through watery eyes. Dean didn't really know what he was apologizing for but it seemed important, whatever it was referring to. Dean's mind flashed with the memory of their first kiss, the way it had tingled along his lips, how quickly Sam had darted off. They'd come _so_ far, only to reach a dead end and part ways.

"I'm not sorry for anything and neither should you be." Sam brushed his lips over Dean's and moved away quickly before he changed his mind. "Dress warmly, but in layers." His voice was strained as he moved about the room getting dressed then finally tugging one of Dean's t-shirts down over his head, "I'm keeping this." His hands rubbed the smooth t-shirt material down over his chest then he tucked it in to his pants before slipping his vest on.

Dean went about dressing almost as a machine, staring only at his hands as he continued to get ready.

Sam left the room at one point and Dean turned to the notebook, pulling out a blank piece of paper from the back and scribbling his address over the lines. He didn't want to run the risk of Sam rejecting the information so he left it sitting on the table, tucking the notebook back in his backpack. Sweeping his eyes around the room in a slow arc, Dean frowned and realized there was nothing left, no part of him besides the bottle of shampoo, the piece of paper. Dean sighed and stepped out of the room, slipping his arms through the straps. "I'm rea..." Dean cut off, thinking he was anything put ready to go.

"I made you this." Sam handed Dean something small that was wrapped up in one of Sam's old t-shirts. "Open it when you get h..home." He didn't mean to stutter on the word but he couldn't help thinking of the cabin as Dean's home.

"You... good to go?" Sam had packed up some first aid supplies, enough water for the return trip from the last stream, food and some other safety equipment. Lugging his backpack up onto his strong frame he smiled weakly - knowing this would be the longest journey he would ever make.

Tucking the item into his backpack Dean stepped toward the door, barely managing a nod. Before he could reach out for the wood he turned, eyes drifting around the comfortable cabin he'd come to know so well. A fresh wave of tears pricked along his eyes and he forced himself back to the door, tugging it open and stepping out into the crisp fall day. On any other occasion Dean might have looked forward to the prospect of hiking, testing out his leg, exploring the wilderness. Now Dean looked around him in slow steps, committing all of this to memory. "Okay," he whispered, glancing over at Sam.

Sam started out ahead, long strides putting some distance between him and the cabin. Even if he kept trying to fool himself into believing that he could change his mind at any moment and leave with Dean - he knew in his heart that wasn't going to happen.

Heavy-footed and overcome by sadness Sam just concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other and covering as much ground as he could. Glancing back occasionally he made sure Dean was walking well, watched for the tell-tale signs of pain and there were none. There was no reason to turn back. They began the journey in silence and spent most of the morning walking quietly. It felt like they'd said everything they needed to say and words just brought more pain; reminded them of the upcoming separation.

Everything looked mostly the same to Dean, one tree after another, and it was a good thing Dean wasn't in charge of leading them because he couldn't tell one direction from another. Sam seemed completely confident his path though, and Dean couldn't help the occasional soft sigh.

Sam was right, this was no world for Dean, he'd never know the land as well. Though Dean was fairly certain Sam would be able to adapt to his world, Dean would no longer push the issue.

They paused at mid-day and ate from Sam's supply of dried meat and berries. Dean was going to need to be careful about what he ate when he got home, overly processed greasy food wasn't likely to agree with his system for awhile.

Dean waited for Sam to sit before carefully settling in at his side, letting their bodies touch just enough to find comfort.

They didn't stop long for lunch. Once they'd eaten Sam grabbed Dean's arm and tugged him in to press their lips together quickly then grabbed his pack and started off up the mountain once more.

Tilting his head, Sam listened carefully, wondering when he would hear the first sounds of civilization. The route through the lowest part of the moutain pass was something Sam had memorized from his father's maps and journals, although he only bothered to hike that way once or twice a year. He preferred to stay on his own side of the deadfall, safe, isolated ... and without Dean.

Shaking his head Sam pushed on up the mountain side glancing over his shoulder occasionally at Dean; watching with a hint of pleasure how well Dean was walking - not the slightest limp. Perhaps Sam had managed to do something right after all. And then Sam heard the dull and distant whine of an engine. It was one of the big trucks that hauled supplies; Sam had seen one once when he'd hiked with Bobby to the highway to say goodbye. Stopping rather suddenly, he turned as Dean almost ran into him. "Did you hear it?"

Eyes lifting slowly up to Sam, Dean nodded, peering through the forest though he couldn't see anything besides trees in the faint afternoon sunlight. "I... do I go on my own from here?" He asked quietly, stepping toward Sam. The ache in his heart had been steadily growing through their mostly silent walk and Dean felt so close to just breaking down he wasn't sure he could continue. His eyes swept around the forest once more before lifting back up to Sam.

Threading his fingers through his lover's, Sam tugged him forward, "I'll stay with you until you're at the road," he hesitated a few moments, "unless it's easier for you if I just go now." Swallowing, Sam tightened his fingers on Dean's hand, unable to meet his eyes.

"I... don't think it's ever going to be easier." Dean sighed and stepped in, laying his head on Sam's shoulder and pulling in his familiar scent. Tugging his fingers from Sam, Dean wrapped his arms around Sam in a tight hug, squeezing him as tight as he could.

"I don't suppose you've changed your mind," Dean whispered into Sam's hair, fingers curling along Dean's back.

"Have you?" Sam whispered softly and brushed his lips over Dean's forehead. The truth was that Sam had changed his mind a thousand times on the walk, wondering if he really could go with Dean and make things work. Each time though - he thought about the stories that Dean had told him, the way he lived and realized how he would stand out. And living in a place with no sky - no stars, less wind, no visits to the river... he sighed and started them walking slowly again, grabbing Dean's pack in his free hand and throwing his other arm over Dean's shoulders. "Bet you're looking forward to having a shower." he murmured, "and chocolate, or a burger...?"

"Hadn't really thought about those things," Dean said softly, breaking away from Sam and taking his bag back. "I should just go on my own. Is it a straight shot from here?" Dean's heart had never ached so bad, not even after the loss of a boyfriend he'd had for _years_.

He'd known Sam not even two months and it literally felt as if he was cutting a part of himself away. If this was really the final goodbye between them - and it seemed it was since neither was dropping their reasons and Dean couldn't find Sam's cabin again even if he searched the woods for months - then Dean needed it simply to happen. Like ripping off a band aid or pulling out a splinter, then you can just get on with the pain and figure out some sort of way to live with it.

"Oh." Sam's step faltered. He'd thought he would be able to watch Dean leave, watching him climb into a vehicle and waving as he drove away. "Yeah, it's straight."

He ran his hand through his hair, shocked at the feeling of distance between them. "You sure ... you don't want me to wait?" Stepping closer Sam curled his fingers around Dean's neck and leaned in to rub their cheeks together and breathe in the smell of his lover for a few more moments.

"Somehow crying in some stranger's car doesn't seem like a good idea," Dean muttered and laid his hand on Sam's collarbone, fingers curling over his shoulder slowly. "I... I'll never forget you Sam," he whispered the words, eyes closing and sending a tear down his cheek. "Thank you for all you've done for me."

Dipping his head down Sam crashed his lips against Dean's - a kiss full of desperation and sadness and all the love that was bursting out of Sam's chest. "Love you," he whispered, in between the frantic movements - tasting tears and the underlying familiar flavour of Dean.

Wrapping his arms tightly around Sam, Dean gasped into the kiss, tongue shifting forward to flick along the curve of Sam's mouth. Dean thought he could stay here, kissing Sam for the rest of his life. But inevitably they broke apart and Dean tried to keep his body from shaking as he stepped back.

"I... I gotta..." he sucked in a sob and turned from Sam, staring at the path he'd be walking through to the road.

Closing the distance between them quickly one last time, Sam slipped his fingers over Dean's shoulders and pressed a gentle kiss to the warm skin just behind the man's ear. "Good-b..." Stumbling back a few steps, Sam sank down to his knees and dropped his back pack to the ground in front of him. He'd just rest and watch Dean walk away, just in case he turned around and wanted to come back.

Sam didn't even feel the tears streaming down his cheeks until he realized he could no longer see Dean because of them. Tucking his hand inside his sleeve he wiped his face with the soft material of Dean's shirt then curled his fingers tightly around the straps of his backpack as he stared at the retreating figure.

There were so many times Dean wanted to turn around, run to Sam, tell him that he _really_ couldn't leave. But he knew that wasn't an option. Fate sealed and all that shit.

He stumbled forward, kept going through tears, stubbed his foot on a root and swore loudly. Dean wanted to just _fuck_ it all but turning around to look over his shoulder exposed nothing but forest. Sam was gone from sight and Dean's choice was officially made. Swallowing around the pain, Dean continued forward, not stopping again until the road appeared through the trees and Dean could see the passing cars. People. No turning back now.

-=-=-=-

The trip back to his world was a blur that Dean could never remember properly in the months that followed. He knew he had made it to the road and that someone had stopped to help him, a family Dean thought, he'd been too emotionally exhausted to really process.

Dean had only been vaguely aware of the florescent white bright lights of a hospital causing him to flinch, the prodding and poking of needles and fingers causing him to shake, and the aching hollow emptiness all of his own cause. Even though Dean wanted to, he couldn't get back to Sam and now it mainly because he would never be able to track that path once more.

It was only a matter of a few hours before Dean was surrounded by friends who lived locally. They expressed their great shock, informed Dean he'd been assumed dead, and nearly exploded with excitement at the fact that he was still alive. Both them and the doctor asked question after question, curious as to how he survived, how he managed to fix his leg. Dean could only offer short, clipped replies, giving just enough information to get them to stop asking. A few of his friends that seemed to know him better seemed to sense the sadness and pain in Dean's eyes but they thankfully didn't ask more.

The next week Dean was on an airplane, landing in Houston, walking through the airport only to be greeted by another mass of friends and most surprisingly, his mother and sister. Dean wasn't too surprised by his father's lack of appearance but it was _so_ good to see his mom and sister after years without, it eased some of the ache. Everyone was quick to pull him in, hold him close, greet him like the long lost friend he was.

It wasn't until he's second day back in Houston that he remembered the item wrapped in Sam's shirt in his bag. He'd been sitting on his bed, trying to calm his mind and nerves and reached into his bag for the notebook, wanting to find peace in John's words about Sam.

Dean had gently pulled the shirt out, heart lurching and slowly unrolled it. Inside was a sculpture Sam had made, shaped wood to look like the both of them, arms around each other. Tears sparked and flared sharp along his eyelids and Dean stared at the item in his hands until he couldn't stand it. He pulled off his shirt and tugged Sam's on a moment later, taking the sculpture and notebook into bed with him.

-=-=-=-

Panic had shot through Dean when he realized that during his absencehis apartment had been given up. It was his first real breakdown since his return, tears streaming from his wide eyes as he stared at some of his closest friends and mother and sister.

There was no proper way to explain but Dean insisted that they get the apartment back, that he would pay whatever he had to, as long as it was the same place. Though they were certainly all curious, no one pressed the issue - thankfully - and they agreed that as soon as they could, they would get the apartment back.

For the first few weeks Dean stayed with his best friend Nathan. Thankfully six weeks wasn't long enough for his friends and family to have cleaned out his things and Dean was instantly provided with his clothing, computer, everything he'd never even missed. Dean was in constant action, people always by his side, friends who needed comfort and reassurance in his presence. He grew so tired of the sharp pain that came whenever someone asked about his time away that he resorted to saying he'd rather not talk about it. It was easier to explain that he was okay, that he'd been rescued by someone pretty amazing, and that at the moment, it was all he could say.

At the end of the first month in society Dean got his apartment back, and the world carried on through winter, offering a faint sprinkling of snow a few times a week. Along with his apartment came the return of his publishing company. Dean's way of dealing with the constant heartache was to write. He kept the notebook secret, only bringing it out when he was all alone and could copy the handwritten words to the computer. At night he would curl up with the sculpture, notebook and Sam's shirt, even if the smell of him had long since faded. Dean imagined he could still pick it up, still remember it, along with the way Sam tasted and the feel of his body against him.

Dean tried as hard as possible to pick up the pieces and move on with his life. He allowed himself to be set up on a few blind dates, but just as he expected he found himself constantly comparing the guy to Sam. They couldn't live up to the image Dean had in his mind and he knew it was just going to take time. After three months, with the beginning of the new year and a particularly disastrous New Year’s Eve date that tried to get more than a simple kiss goodnight, Dean told his friends he was taking a break from dating. There was no proper way to explain what a great influence Sam had been on his life so Dean simply told those who questioned his decision to wait for his book. They'd understand more then.

The book, simply tilted _Sam_ , was finished halfway through January. Dean didn't use the name Sam in the book, never mentioned it even once, and he refused to explain or change the title to his publishers. They appeared to love the story since they allowed Dean the title in the end and had a copy to be edited back to him within weeks. It was the first thing Dean had written in awhile that he was actually proud of.

So, halfway through April, he allowed his friends to throw him a party for the book release. Dean had attempted to avoid large gatherings as much as possible since his return, finding a big crowd a little overwhelming. It felt almost surreal, knowing he'd been back in this world since October. Sometimes he felt like a completely different person than he'd ever been and other times it was as if he'd never left.

Dean still missed Sam more than he thought possible, he still slept with his things and dreamed of him. But the ache and hollowness were familiar now, like the smile he more often than not had to force. He tried not to dwell on what Sam would be doing, finding the thoughts too overwhelming on most occasions, and by this point Dean had long since accepted he had experienced one of the best things imaginable, and for that he could only be grateful.

-=-=-=-

Sam sat there on the trail, watching Dean leave, then ... simply ... didn't move. He waited. He waited for Dean to come back. Soon enough, he knew that his lover wasn't coming back, hadn't had a change of heart and turned around. It was a long time before Sam could bring himself to move from where he was sitting; after all, it was the last step to being completely alone.

When he finally climbed to his feet, Sam's legs were stiff, his muscles protesting the movement after so much stillness. The first step was horrible, turning way from the place he'd last seen Dean felt like it would break his heart all over again. Fortunately, Sam's autopilot kicked in as he retraced his steps. It felt like a year had passed since they'd walked that way together.

As the sky darkened, the air cooled and Sam stepped sure-footed through the deadfall as he finally approcahed the river. Never before had Sam felt so empty and numb - it didn't even feel like he was returning home. Of course, as Sam approached the cabin , there was no lantern burning in the window, the door was closed and Dean's chair on the front porch was empty and covered with a scattering of leaves.

Up the path, across the porch, through the door and into a cold cabin. _Empty_. Sam dropped his backpack just inside the door, kicked off the boots and padded straight into the bedroom. The first tears dampened Sam's cheeks when his face hit _Dean's_ pillow and he inhaled the fading scent of the other man. Exhausted and drained, Sam fell asleep without even undressing.

-=-=-=-

The first morning was, by far, the worst. Sam's eyes opened to the sun already shining and automatically turned toward Dean's side of the bed. There was no one there and the full reality of Sam's life ... alone ... came crashing down on him.

The first day, Sam stayed in bed for most of the daylight hour,s only venturing out to the living room for water and to load some wood into the stove when it started to get cold. He did find the note, one small piece of paper with Dean's address on it, and tucked it away inside an envelope of family pictures he kept.

If anyone had asked Sam about that day - he wouldn't have known how the time passed, just that it did. He might have cried, might have even said Dean's name aloud a few times in an attempt to convince himself that it was all real. The shampoo bottle stayed on the table all day; finally before lying down again in the darkest hours of the night Sam washed his hands with some of the precious scent so he could close his eyes with the familiar scent near him.

The thing about being completely self-sufficient was that there was no one to pick up the pieces of Sam's life. Instinct kicked in after the first day and Sam dragged his aching body from under the nest of quilts to face his tasks. There was water to be fetched, some preparations for winter he could start and Sam knew he needed to eat even though the mere though of food made his stomach turn.

It was like Sam's Dad always told him, you get through everything one small move at a time. One step after the other - time just keeps passing whether you want it to or not. Something so big had changed. Sam had missed his father when he had died - of course he had - but they were both solitary creatures. Often John would disappear on hunting trips for days ... sometimes weeks ... and Sam's life was the same as if his father were there. Now, there was an absence every time he turned around. He couldn't forget to be aware of Dean's absence... the man had touched everything in the cabin, been everywhere and the best Sam could hope for was to learn to live with it.

And he did.

Once the snow settled all the way down the mountains and the cabin seemed to huddle back into the huge white snow drift that built up against it - it was as though Sam's heart was finally convinced that Dean wasn't coming back. Oh, he'd known all along that Dean would never be able to find his way back to the cabin; it was an impossible trail for people with a great deal of bush experience. Now - all the safe paths through the dead-fall and lower foothills were impassable and Sam was truly cut off. There would be no visitor. Sam cut wood when he needed it, mended his clothes, cooked and slowly ate his way through the supplies and dried goods he had stored. For a month he had tried carving but the puzzle boxes no longer held his attention. He read through Dean's book three more time in December, then on what he assumed was Christmas Eve Sam spent an hour tearing the pages out one by one and burning them in the stove.

The winter was long and hard. Storms tore at the roof of the cabin and there were times when Sam thought that the old place might not hold together. It was fitting, he had a ton of work to do holding things together and it kept Sam's mind where it should be: in the present. The howling wind at night became a comfort to Sam and the only times he had a decent night's sleep - of all the things he missed, the sound of Dean's breathing at night was the one thing he couldn't forget. It had really been the true sense of being _with_ someone rather than alone. When the wind whipped against the windows and rattled at the door, howling and complaining mightily all night, Sam could just pretend Dean was there ... asleep ... breathing so quietly the soothing sound was lost in all the noise.


	6. Chapter 6

The first drops of water - the melting snow in sunshine surprised Sam. He'd felt like winter would continue for months longer, never really expecting the seasons to turn. The first patch of green grass, the first bulb that sprouted life, and soon enough Sam was standing over the patch of earth he usually labored over for a few days to ready for planting. He stood there for over an hour, paced sometimes, thought, and rather suddenly at about lunchtime he dropped the shovel where he stood and went inside. Sam packed his photos, the shampoo bottle, one of his father's journals and as much food, water and clothing as he could carry.

He set off up the path to the deadfall, paused for a few moments to look back at the empty cabin and began his long hike. It felt longer, walking the path alone, and fear built up in Sam as he reached the point at which he'd said good-bye to Dean.

What if no one drove by anymore? What if he couldn't get to Texas? What if the address Dean had given him was wrong - or was never real? Squeezing his eyes shut - Sam stepped forward - taking a few steps further than he'd been in years and it was the push he needed to get him going. Soon enough he was standing at the side of the highway trying to wave down a ride.

It might have taken a week to get to Texas. It was all a big blur in Sam's mind. There was Doris who drove the big blue car with the radio that only worked about half the time. She would hammer her first down on the dashboard and scare the daylights out of Sam every hundred miles or so trying to get it to work. Sam shared his berries with Doris and she shared stories about her grand children and the way her cyclamen at home had been flowering for over a year. Sam was sorry to see her go but not sorry to settle his nerves with no more dashboard punching.

Tom brought Sam a long way. He had a fancy pickup truck, liked country music and had beautiful, long, thick blond hair. Sam had his first beer with Tom which was a strange experience for someone who'd never had alcohol. He was drunk after about half of it - which amused Tom until Sam had to wave him over so he could throw up. It might not have been the beer, it actually could have been the crunchy, cheezie snack things they'd shared. They sat in Sam's stomach like a rock.

It was Allan who drove Sam into Houston. Allan had an eighteen wheeler and a collection of porn magazines in his truck matched by none other. There were naked women on the steering wheel cover, breasts on the gear shift, brass testicles handing from the back of his cab and a four page fold out poster of his favourite ”bunny” dangling down the back of his sleeping compartment door. Sam had never seen so many naked women anywhere.

Of course, Sam had thought about Dean the entire time he was traveling. He wondered, as they drew closer, if Dean would be with someone new, if he would be writing, if he would even want to see Sam after all these months and they way they had parted. He couldn't face the idea that he might have to head back to the cabin again if he couldn't find Dean. Couldn't face it at all. But - that fear of returning was how he finally found he had the courage to be standing in front of a door, clutching the piece of paper Dean had left for him in one hand as he knocked upon it.

-=-=-=-

The party was in full swing around him and Dean was itching for it all to be over so he could get back to the comfortable familiarity of his apartment. Everyone was too eager to please, popping up with quick statements of _love the book Dean_ and _you're looking great Dean_. He knew it was a lie. Dean hadn't been eating too well and he'd lost enough weight to make the need for a belt on every pair of pants he owned. Dean was thinking he was also pretty pale, since he chose to do all of his grocery shopping later in the evening at the twenty-four hour store to avoid major crowds.

Because of the swarm of people Dean wasn't near the door, wasn't paying attention to who was coming since he hadn't even handle invitations. For _whatever_ the reason Nathan had invited the dreaded ex, Mark, who had been pursuing Dean for months now. He was insisting upon making up for his mistakes, saying Dean's "death" had made it clear how much he still loved him, and sometimes Dean considered taking him back if only because it would make him _feel_.

Currently Mark was at the door to the apartment, pulling it open at the sound of a knock. He frowned at the tall, muscular man there and arched an eyebrow, leaning against the door frame, "Can I help you?"

"Oh." Sam took a step back trying to peer around the man to the sound of voice, "I'm.. I'm looking for Dean ... he gave me this." Sam held out the piece of paper with one hand while nervously straightening his worn clothes with the other. His worst nightmare was becoming a reality. For some reason, he had assumed that it would be Dean's face he saw when the door opened.

Snatching the paper, Mark frowned at it, glancing behind him at the party before looking back at him, "and who are you?" His tone was rough and annoyed, eyes lifting in a slight roll of impatience.

"I'm his-" he smiled slightly, "I'm Sam. We met - am I in the right place?" He cleared his throat and looked down at the other man's neatly pressed pants.

"Sam." Mark repeated slowly and stepped forward, eyes narrowing. "You're Sam." His gaze dragged slowly up the long line of Sam's body, shoulders stiffening. "Dean's not here. Go away. This is a private party."

Sam took a step back. "Oh." Blinking a few times as tears pricked at the corner of his eyes he stepped back again and swung his bag up onto his shoulder, "Sorry... to have bothered you," he said quietly.   
Turning away he felt a tear roll down his cheek. He had no idea where to go and his heart felt like it was breaking in half all over again. He made it halfway down the stairs and sank down on to one of the steps to lean against the railing.

It was just by chance that Dean was crossing through the apartment, seeking the solace of outside for awhile, saved by the ringing of his cell phone.

Mark stood at the front door, pushing it closed and Dean frowned, glancing down where his mother waited on the line before pushing the man to the side, "phone." He held it up and frowned when Mark pushed back to block his way.

"Why didn't you tell us Sam was a real person?" Mark blurted out, face blanching moments later as if he didn't mean to say that.

Dean's eyes widened slightly, "How... how did you know that?"

"Who is he? Is he the guy who saved you? Oh my god, Dean, did you shack up with some hick in the middle of the Ozarks for two months?" Mark scoffed, clearly disgusted and shook his head. "You always did have a thing for the pretty boys."

Dean snapped the phone shut, making a note to call his mom later before slamming Mark hard into the door. The party around them grew silent in a flash but Dean knew Mark would have heard his low growled words regardless. "Shut your fucking mouth. You don't know what you're talking about."

Mark seemed to cower slightly under the intensity of Dean's glare and he swallowed thickly before recovering himself and shoving Dean back. "What the fuck ever, Dean. So he's the pretty boy who broke your heart? Well you can say you're even now, you should have seen how ridiculous he looked, thinking you might be still be _interested_ in some fucking hick."

Everything in Dean chilled, mind struggling to piece together Mark's words. When it occurred to him that there was only one way Mark could have said things like _seen_ and _pretty boy_ was if Mark actually _saw_ Sam, Dean's heart kick started. He didn't spare a word to the people in his apartment, instead shoving Mark roughly to the side, pride flaring in gratification when the man stumbled and fell hard on his ass.

Dean threw the door of his apartment open and turned to run down the steps, only he didn't have to go far. Sam was right _there_.

"Jesus Christ," Dean sucked in a sharp breath, heart stopping once more at the sight of the man, still outrageously gorgeous, all muscles and tanned skin, long hair and even longer body despite the way he tried to pull in on himself. "Sam," he gasped and half stepped forward.

The sound of Dean's voice right next to him nearly killed Sam. He turned into the bars he was holding onto, staring at his white knuckles and trying to breathe. "M'sorry I waited too long - I'm gonna -" he heaved in a breath and wiped his damp cheek on his shoulder.

"I"m gonna go in just a minute... I'm sorry." He'd waited too long and there was someone else and he should have _known_ that this would happen. The man at the door was right to send him away. He was nothing compared to that other man, with his mended clothes and shaggy hair, _nothing_.

"I came as soon as," he hiccuped in a breath, "as soon as the snow..."

"Someone else?" Dean repeatedly slowly and looked back toward his apartment before shaking his head. "Mark? No. No Sam he's not... my friends are having this party for my book release and he's just." Dean dragged a hand through his hair and gaped at Sam. "He's no one. God I can't believe you're really here."

Reaching out Dean slid forward, close enough to touch Sam's arms to ensure he wasn't seeing things. "Sam," he gasped again before closing the distance and throwing his arms around Sam's body, sucking in a quick lungful of his scent, just like he remembered.

"It's okay? That I'm here?" Sam's heart couldn't catch up with the words he was hearing but Dean's vanilla hair, the feel of his warmth and the way he leaned into him was just like Sam remembered.

"Dean?" He whispered other words but wasn't sure if it mattered what he said - it just mattered that Dean held on to him and that Sam had made it there.

"It's more than okay that you're here," Dean assured quietly, unwilling to let Sam go even when his phone rang again. He shoved his hand into his pocket to pull it open, flip it open and say a quick, "I'll call you back," before flipping it shut once more. Pulling back just slightly, arms still around him, Dean grinned and stared up at Sam through watery eyes. "How did you get here? God I can't even imagine the journey." He laughed, sounding almost giddy and not caring in the slightest.

Sam blinked in the direction of Dean's shiny silver phone. "I walked and I got rides." Sam's hands moved over Dean's body. "You got ... so thin...I have food in my pack if you need some." He smiled shyly then darted forward to wrap his arms around Dean's neck and pull him close. "Missed you so much," he sighed and nuzzled into Dean's neck not even caring anymore how he looked, if there were tears on his face, or where they were sitting. None of it mattered.

"I've missed you," Dean murmured and held Sam as close as possible, allowing his mind to catch up with the entire situation. Someone laughed loudly inside his apartment and Dean stiffened, wondering how long it would take until someone came to investigate his whereabouts.

There was no way Sam could handle meeting so many people at once, especially people who would instantly connect his name to the book. "I'm gonna bring you inside and hide you in my bedroom until I can clear everyone out okay? There's a bathroom in there so you can freshen up or whatever." Dean pulled back enough to look at Sam once more, lifting a hand to wipe at the tears on his cheeks. "God, you're a sight for sore eyes."

Sam nodded slowly and grabbed the straps on his back pack to pull it up on his shoulder. "I ... are there lots of people? Will they see me? I could stay outside and wait." Nervous, Sam worried his bottom lip with his teeth and combed through his hair with his fingers.

"They'll only see you for a minute and I promise no one is gonna say anything," Dean insisted and glanced back at the door before tugging Sam forward. "They'll all see you if you wait out here, plus I'll feel better if... well... knowing where you are."

Dean very much wanted to kiss Sam but if anyone found them that way it would only cause more questions. Things he didn't want to deal with right away. "Ready?" He asked, stroking a hand through Sam's hair and savoring the touch.

"Okay," Sam murmured sliding up close to Dean's back and slipping his fingers through Dean's. He'd only ever been around two people at a time - Bobby and his Dad... the idea of even walking past a crowd of people terrified him.

Dean nodded and squeezed Sam's hand reassuringly before leading him forward. Everyone turned to them the moment they were inside and Dean narrowed his eyes, not stopping as he dragged Sam a few steps through the room and down the hallway. He could hear his name called but ignored it in favor of pushing his bedroom door open and pulling Sam inside. Once the door closed around them he blew out a long breath and turned to Sam. "See? Not too bad," he grinned at him, squeezing his hand once more.

Sam nodded, wide-eyed, looking around Dean's bedroom. The room was almost the size of Sam's entire cabin. "Will you be gone long?" He was having trouble prying his fingers out of Dean's hand now that he had him there.

"Not long at all," Dean reassured, free hand gently caressing Sam's chest. "Make yourself at home, my bathroom is through there," Dean pointed toward the open door across the room before looking back at Sam. "Do you need anything? Water?"

"M'okay, should I ..." Sam looked down at his clothes, "I should was... sorry..." Dropping his backpack Sam walked backwards a few steps toward the bathroom door.

Dean chuckled and trailed after Sam, "you can shower if you want but you look just great to me." He sighed happily and reached out once more to stroke a hand through Sam's hair. "Think you can figure out how to turn it on and stuff? It's pretty basic but..." Dean shrugged, not sure how many showers Sam had encountered in however long it took him to get to Houston.

"I'll wait," Sam smiled and looked down at the floor before sitting down on the floor by his back pack. "I'll wait right here." Blinking up at Dean, he reached out and trailed his fingers down Dean's wrist.

Wetting his lips Dean watched Sam for a minute before the voices from the living room caught his attention. "Okay, I'll be right back," he smiled softly at the man before turning and heading for the door. He closed it softly behind him and was in the living room in five quick steps, causing everyone to look up.

"Alright, everyone needs to go now," he said sharply and sighed as they gave him surprised looks. "I'm sorry, I can't explain it right now but I need... I just need everyone to go okay?" He sought Nathan's eyes through the crowd and looked at him pleadingly.

"Well, you heard the man." Nathan clapped his hands and began ushering people to the door. "You know how these artist types are, all secrets." Nathan smiled at Dean and continued to nudge people to the door.

It took ten minutes to get everyone out, Dean assuring Nathan he'd call him soon and fill him in. Dean walked around the place in a final sweep, gathering the larger items of trash and carrying them toward the kitchen.

Finally, fifteen minutes later, he was heading back to his bedroom, pushing the door open and instinctively closing it once more behind him. "Okay, everyone's gone," Dean's eyes fixed on Sam, heart lurching once more at the sight of him. "Still okay? Need anything?" He fidgeted slightly, wetting his lips out of habit.

Sam's tongue moved slowly over his bottom lip and he looked up. He hadn't moved, not sure what he should touch and what he shouldn't. "Just you?" He held his hand out, fingers trembling slightly. He just needed Dean.

"I can give you that," Dean said softly and crossed the room, taking Sam's hand and pulling him up. Not even a half hour of having the man back and Dean already felt more alive than he had in months. Tugging him close he wrapped his arms around Sam's shoulders, laced his fingers through his hair, and brought him in for a deep kiss. Dean felt the heartache melt away with the warm slide of Sam's lips, stepping into him so they were flush together. Everything else had been worth it, just for this moment to happen, and Dean tightened his hold on Sam, never intending to let him go.

There could never be anyone as amazing as this man to Dean. Less than an hour together again and Dean's whole body was humming with pleasure and excitement. "Sam," he murmured into their kiss, leaning heavily into the man. "You're mine now, right? You're not leaving again?" Dean pulled back enough to stare up at Sam, fingers rubbing gentle circles into his chest. "I don't think I could say goodbye again." Just the thought made Dean a little sick to his stomach.

Barely able to focus, Sam blinked slowly and stared into Dean's sea-green eyes. "Yours now?" His lips twitched into a smile. He'd been Dean's since practically the first moment he'd met the man; it was just a long road to get to this point. Gripping Dean's hand tightly in his own larger one, Sam smiled. "I'm yours - I mean, if that's okay." Reaching up to trace his fingers over the familiar curves of Dean's face his brow furrowed. "Can I stay for a ... even for a few days and then I can try and get a job or something." Sam's eyes moved to Dean's shoulder. "You don't have to take care of me or anything but... but I'd like to be near you when I can." Because when it came down to it, Dean was the only reason Sam was there.

Dean chuckled softly and stroked a hand through Sam's hair, pulling him in for another soft brush of mouths. "Oh Sam, as far as I am concerned you can stay forever," he smiled against Sam's lips and sighed happily.

"I've missed you so much you can't... well I'm sure you know... I wrote a book," Dean blinked up at Sam, chuckled softly and pulled back, crossing the room in several quick strides before returning with the book and holding it out. "It's... what I wrote. But you don't have to read it," Dean shrugged and looked to the side. "Your name isn't in the book. I just used it as a title."

Sam traced the letters on the front of the book. _Sam_. "I'd like to read it... is it about us? About me finding you?" Somewhere deep inside him, that felt good. They were in print, solid and there for everyone to read and no one could take it away from them.   
"Forever is a long time," Sam sighed as he looked around Dean's bedroom. There were so many things he didn't recognize, didn't know what so many objects did, _so_ much to learn. "I can really stay?"

Trying to decipher his tone, Dean considered Sam with soft eyes, stepping back slightly and turning. He was still wearing nice dress slacks and a silk shirt and compared to Sam he felt overdressed, out of place. "Yeah, you can stay as long as you want. But you know, if you'd rather have your own place someday I... you can... I mean, I won't _force_ you to stay here with me."

Dean shrugged out of his shirt moments later, last button hesitating between his fingers before pulling away. "Oh and yeah, the book is about you finding me. It's being released this week into stores." Reaching into his closet Dean retrieved a hanger and slid the nice shirt onto it before hanging it back up and dropping his hands to his waistline. It wasn't until after he'd pushed the dress pants down that he realized he was now in only his boxers and his eyes shot to Sam, "uh... sorry. I guess I got comfortable around you and didn't think." Dean chuckled and turned away as his face colored.

"I'll stay." Sam almost whispered as his eyes moved over all the different fabrics in Dean's closet. "So, that guy-" Sam held out his hand for Dean again. He didn't want to waste a moment not touching the other man. "The guy at the door. Who was he?"

"Mark." Dean sighed and stepped towards Sam and taking his hand and leaning in to him. "He's that ex I mentioned before. Ever since I came back he's been real interested in _getting to know_ me again. I've told him I'm not interested but he doesn't seem to care." Dean shrugged and looked to the side, laying against Sam's chest.

"Mark, " Sam echoed. It was clear that the man hadn't liked Sam one bit. "Did you tell him about me? About _us_?" Sam was pretty sure that if their rolls were reversed he would tell anyone who would listen.

"Well, not exactly but... the book..." Dean gestured toward it and shrugged. "He probably heard your name and put two and two together pretty easily. I... it was too hard, to talk about you. I poured all my energy into writing that. As soon as people know that it's _true_ well," Dean blushed softly and laughed. "They're gonna know how completely gone I am for you."

"Still?" San smiled and looked down at the smattering of freckles across Dean's cheeks. He knew how he felt about Dean ... If anything Sam's feelings were stronger.

Dean smiled and laid his palm against Sam's cheek. "Still." Wrapping his hand around the man's neck he dragged him forward for another long, deep kiss, tongue snaking out to trail in slow circles along the inside of Sam's mouth. "Really missed you," he murmured into the kiss, stepping flush into Sam's body to find comfort in his heat.

Tired, emotionally drained and still trying to convince himself that Dean was real - the kiss sent such a flood of sensation through Sam's body that his knees gave out and he caught himself on Dean's shoulders. "Wow..." he murmured as his stubbled cheek rasped across Dean's cheek. "You smell different ... good." He ran his nose up Dean's cheek, through his hair and inhaled deeply.

Smiling softly Dean caressed Sam's hair before withdrawing enough to look into his eyes. "How about you take a shower, relax some, maybe even a nap? We have all the time in the world now."

Dean leaned in to brush their lips together. "If you're too tired I could take that shower with you... you know, just to help out." He grinned into Sam's mouth before kissing him roughly once more.

Moaning softly Sam slipped his fingers over the waistband of Dean's boxers and tugged them down gently. "Come with me," he said as he sank his teeth into the other man's collarbone. "I might-" he kissed and licked his way back up Dean's neck, "-wreck something." And, he didn't want to be alone. Sam had been alone for months.

Slipping his fingers under Sam's shirt, Dean gently pushed the fabric up, backing Sam toward the bathroom door. "Best to be safe," he murmured, voice already slightly deeper. He could already feel the arousal sparking up in him. It had been too long and Dean missed Sam's touch.

Dean stepped back enough to tug Sam's shirt off and toss it to the side, hands dropping to his waistband. "God I can't even tell you how many times I've dreamed about this," he dipped down to press a gentle kiss to Sam's heart, moaning softly when their bare chests touched.

Sam couldn't keep his eyes open or his hands still on Dean's body. He wanted to reclaim every part of the man; he wanted to drown himself in the feel of Dean's skin and the scent of his flesh.

Turning suddenly, strong hands sliding under Dean's arms, Sam slammed his lover against the wall and growled softly. "Don't ever leave me again." Each of Sam's words was punctuated with a thrust of his denim-clad thigh into Dean's crotch.

Dean moaned, pleasure coursing through him at Sam's strong touch. "Never," he insisted, arms tightening around Sam's shoulders as he leaned in to suck at Sam's ear lobe. "You know, now that my leg is really one hundred percent, there's a whole variety of things we can do."

Dean dragged his teeth along the flesh and let his hands fall down between them, tugging sharply at the button and freeing it from its hold, zipper falling moments later.

Sam leaned heavily on his hands, bracing himself as Dean spoke. "Like wh..what?" His voice was husky, deep, lips pressed against Dean's ear. Sam's cock was already swollen and heavy. He wanted Dean's hand on him, wrapped around the painful ache. "Just want you to-" his voice fell away as his lips brushed over the Dean's once more and every nerve in his body caught fire.

"We have time to figure it out," Dean said softly and slid his hands under Sam's jeans, shoving down roughly until the denim pooled at the man's ankles. "What do you want, Sam?" He murmured, sucking along the crook of Sam's neck, pulling blood to the surface.

"Anything, it's yours," Dean moaned into the skin as Sam's hips rocked forward into his, cocks brushing through thin layers of cotton. Dean had never _needed_ so badly in his life and he lifted the elastic on Sam's boxers, pulling back before shoving down roughly. Swallowing thickly Dean once more began kissing a trail along Sam's neck as his hand shifted, fingers brushing over Sam's burning hot skin.

Sam pushed Dean back against the wall with his hips, sucking in a sharp breath as Dean's fingers brushed against the taut skin of his cock. "Want you to-" Sam rocked forward into Dean's body, biting and sucking his way back into the heat of his lover's mouth. The words were lost in his mind as his tongue slid along Dean's, lips burning hot against lips. Sam's knees buckled again and he slammed his palms onto the wall as he wrenched his mouth from Dean's. "Fuck me ... Make me yours again."

A sharp jolt of arousal shot through Dean's body, causing his cock to twitch and he moaned Sam's name, arching up into his body. "Fuck yes," he murmured, eyes fluttering as Sam deepened the kiss once more. Just hearing Sam say those words was enough to make him come on the spot. Thankfully he managed to regain some control over himself and he shoved roughly at his boxers, kicking them off a moment later when they dropped to his ankles.

Dean's fingers curled around Sam's hips, urging him back toward the bed once more. Screw the shower, they'd do that later. "Need you," Dean gasped into Sam's mouth, fingers curling loosely around Sam's cock and stroking up slowly.

Sam stumbled as Dean changed their direction then fell backwards onto the bed when the backs of his legs ran into it. "Dean," he murmured, tugging the other man down on to him. The breath was forced out of his lungs as Dean fell onto him and Sam's hands moved to smooth over Dean's skin. Shaking, Sam wrapped long arms around Dean's body, holding him as close as possible. Soft sounds filled the room, sighs and moans, whispered names.

They kissed for what felt like hours, bodies rocking together slowly has hands traced and relearned the curves of flesh. Dean gently worked them up the mattress until Sam's head was resting in the middle of the pillow, pressing the full weight of his body down into Sam, enjoying the way their skin moved together just as much as he knew Sam did. "Love you," he whispered into Sam's mouth, mind flashing in a brief moment of shock that Sam was actually _there_.

Dean was fairly sure it was going to take some time to really believe it. Pressing his hands onto the bed on either side of Sam's head, Dean pushed up slightly to stare down at him, smiling at his kiss swollen lips, flushed face, half-lidded glassy eyes. "Gorgeous," he murmured, dipping forward to brush their lips together once more.

Sam struggled to swallow, struggled to get hold of himself but his eyes blurred with tears even as joy flooded through him. "Dean," he mumbled, holding the gaze of those eyes that had never been far from his thoughts. "I... I'd never been lonely," a tear left the corner of his eye, "until I didn't have you."

Pulling Dean back down onto him Sam wrapped a long leg round his lover's torso. "Missed you so much," he whispered, straining to get back to Dean's lips.

Another moan fell from Dean's chest into the kiss, body rocking down into Sam's as their tongues flicked together in slow swipes. Dean worked his hand down between them, rubbing small circles along his flesh. Heat burned through him as their cocks grazed together, sliding in slow, rocking motions. Pulling back from the kiss Dean gasped and shifted to the side, tugging open the drawer to grab a bottle of lube and toss alongside Sam's body. Rolling his body back against Sam's, Dean dropped kisses to every inch of skin that he could, pulling in Sam's taste.

"I want you," Dean sucked Sam's nipple into his mouth and dragged it up through his teeth. "So much."

Sam's body reacted almost violently to Dean's touch,he jerked forward, arching up in a long curve of muscle and flesh. One wide calloused palm slid straight down Dean's chest, then curled round his hard length.

"Now...please" It suddenly seemed like the most important thing in the world, the connection between the two of them. His nails dug hard into Dean's shoulder, mouth moving across the warm flesh in between moans and gasps. Sam wanted the burn, the feeling that he was _with_ Dean; he wanted to know that he was actually _here_.

Fumbling for a bottle of lube Dean slid back to sit on his calves, slicking three fingers with quick motions. Settling between Sam's spread legs, Dean reached out with his free hand and gently nudged Sam's legs further apart, creating as much space as he could.

"Do you have any idea how hot you are, like this?" Dean murmured, prodding forward with one finger, circling the sensitive area gently. "Makes me wanna take you right no." Dean bit down on his bottom lip and nudged the tip of his index finger forward past the tight ring.

Eyes locked with Dean's Sam's jaw twitched, "do it... _God_ Dean." He shifted closer, rolling slightly on to his side. Pushing himself up he crawled forward on his knees and bent to lick his way up over Dean's stomach, his ribs, stopped to roll a nipple between his teeth for a few moments.

"Dean," he mumbled between long licks of his tongue against the smooth flesh of Dean's chest. "P...Please," Sam just needed to know that he was still Dean's. He needed to feel something over than the emptiness that he'd lived with for the past few months. Kneeling up, Sam pressed his body as close as he could, running his hands back over Dean's hair then curling them around the back of his neck.

"Yes," Dean murmured, nudging Sam's legs apart and allowing the man to lean heavily against him. It wasn't the best angle but a gentle prodding behind Sam's balls and a sharply angled wrist and Dean was able to rub his index finger once more along the puckered flesh.

"Gonna burn," he whispered and gently slid his finger as far up as he could reach, leaning into Sam's body, free arm wrapped around him, sliding up through his hair. Their flesh was pressed together tightly, and Dean rocked his finger up as deep as possible, turning to allow his lips to slide along Sam's skin.

Cupping Dean's cheeks, Sam moved their mouths together, slick, wet and needy. He sucked and pulled kisses from Dean's mouth then slid his hands down to rest over his lover's shoulders. Rocking his hips forward, Sam moaned quietly as the burn ran its course through his body; it hurt in a way that set Sam's heart beating faster - stronger - blood rushing through his veins. Lips running down the curve of Dean's ear, Sam sucked his earlobe for a few moments, "want your cock," he whispered, gasped and moaned softly, "inside me. Now." Throwing his head back, he arched his spine and whispered his lover's name.

Dean swallowed thickly, head tilting to the side to give Sam more room to kiss along his flesh. "Gotta..." Dean panted softly and twisted his finger inside Sam, adding a second one moments later. "Gotta prep. It'll hurt too much, can't hurt you," Dean insisted in a whisper, wrist twisting to stretch Sam's muscle as much as possible.

He could almost feel Sam's heart racing against his flesh, Dean sucked in a quick breath and tightened his fingers in Sam's hair, tugging him back sharply so their lips could slide together, rough kisses pressed together as Dean's fingers spread wide within him.

Crying out softly, Sam forced his tongue past Dean's lips as he reached down to wrap long fingers around Dean's cock. Stroking up, fingers all running over the head to slide back down the other side - Sam could feel the heat of Dean's flesh. Blinking a few times Sam stared hard into Dean's eyes, so _beautiful_ , glistening green just barely circling black pupils. Pumping Dean's shaft he leaned back in, _harder_ , thrusting his tongue deep into the wet heat of Dean's mouth keeping pace with his hand.

A loud moan rolled up Dean's chest as his hips jerked forward, eager for more friction, desperate to be buried inside Sam. His lover was in constant motion against him and Dean pulled his fingers back enough to shove his third finger in, wrist beginning to ache from the way it was bent.

"Sam," he gasped into the man's mouth, thighs shaking slightly. Dean had never felt something so overwhelmingly intense, all the nerves in his body seemed to be on overdrive, sparking in response to every little touch and glide. "Need you," he murmured, rocking hard forward into Sam's touch.

Arching back over Dean's arms, Sam let himself fall back onto the bed again, flipped his leg over and turned onto his stomach. Palms flat on the bed he pushed himself back onto Dean's fingers, taking him deep and _hard_. Sam couldn't stop moving, didn't ever want to stop touching Dean and was so caught up with _want_ and desire that he could barely see. As his hips rocked back and forth Sam moaned softly, hair hanging down over his face.

Hissing around the desire flaring through him, Dean pulled his fingers back, lunging to the side for the bottle of lube and squirting a large amount onto his palm, slicking himself quickly.

"Sam..." he moaned once more, knees shifting forward between the wide spread V of Sam's legs. Dean curled his fingers around the base of his cock, lining himself up and dragging his aching flesh along Sam's crack before nudging forward. Reaching out, Dean hooked his free hand around Sam's shoulder and pulled him back slightly, enough that the tip of his cock was sucked inside tight muscle, causing him to drop his head and moan low in his throat.

Sam rocked his hips and slammed his ass back hard against Dean, crying out as his lover's cock slid into him until hips pressed hard against his ass.

"Dean," he mumbled, forearms stretched out on the mattress. Turning slightly to look over his shoulder he caught a glimpse of Dean's face. His cheeks were ruddy, lips swollen and dark and his eyes were ... gorgeous. Gasping in a quick breath, Sam folded his body almost in half and pushed back into Dean's hips again. His ass burned and throbbed, his muscles quivering as he moaned almost soundlessly into the mattress.

" _Jesus Christ_ ," Dean growled, completely thrown by the reaction of Sam, heat sliding over him and slamming roughly back down. Wetting his lips with a quick drag of his tongue, Dean curled both hands around Sam's hips and pulled all the way out, slamming in hard enough to shake his bones. Dean panted heavily as he continued the action over and over, not giving Sam a moment to recover.

"Fuck Sam," Dean moaned loudly and angled his thrust, pulling Sam back down onto him.

The pressure of Dean's thrust was grating Sam's body forward against the quilt. His arms shuddered then gave out and Sam's chest fell to the mattress. Each thrust sent waves of heat spiraling through Sam's body and straight to his cock. Everything in the past few months, the fear and loneliness, the routine - and the way that Sam missed Dean every moment - it all started to drain away from his body as his approaching orgasm swelled and grew within him.

Time blurred as Dean continued his rough pace, hips thrusting in long, deep thrusts inside his lover. Dean was panting heavily, not able to gather enough air in his lungs and his vision grew fuzzy around the edges.

Dropping down slightly against Sam's body, Dean wrapped his arm around his lover's body and curled his fingers around Sam's swollen flesh, stroking at a matching pace, tightening with the gentle twist of his wrist. He knew they were both close and could only quicken his pace, pull them both closer to the edge.

Sam gasped in a deep breath when Dean's fingers wrapped around his sensitive flesh. Moaning out Dean's name, mind a blur of Dean's body, the sensations of skin against skin, the gorgeous sounds coming from Dean's lips.

Sam's body was on fire and he hardly knew what to do with himself: grind his hips back, or lean forward into his lover's hand. His entire body shuddered and he felt something break open inside him and flood warmth through his body as his orgasm began. Lunging back against Dean's cock, loving the feeling of being so full and so _connected_ Sam's cock throbbed and pulsed out his release on the bed.

Like it had been every time Dean was buried deep in Sam, the feel of the man's orgasm clenched vice like around his cock and Dean lost all ability to hold back. His hips slammed hard down into Sam in several shallow thrusts before his muscles tensed and his release coursed through him. Dean continued to stroke Sam through his own orgasm, letting go as he grew soft and his hips gradually stopped their rocking forward.

He panted heavily on shallow breaths, nearly collapsing onto Sam's back, body shaking. "Sam," he murmured, lips turning into the sweaty skin. "Amazing." He sighed blissfully and half wrapped one arm around Sam's waist.

Using the last of his energy to roll over to face Dean, Sam grunted out a sound and rubbed his cheek along his lover's chest. He whispered something into Dean's flesh and tightened his arms around him.

Dean settled onto the mattress beside Sam and nuzzled firmly into him. He knew he was going to sleep better now than he had in months, that everything was going to be better. Having Sam with him was like getting a second chance and Dean was definitely going to make the best of it.

Pressing soft kisses to Dean's flesh Sam smiled. "Love you," he murmured, eyes already heavy as his body started to relax into his lover's arms.

-=-=-=-

It was late morning when Sam woke up. Groaning as he stretched his arms high up above his head he rolled to face the other side of the bed only to find it empty.

"Dean?' The bedroom was empty, but Dean had picked up their clothes and folded them, leaving them on the chair at the foot of the bed. A deep breath puffing out his chest, Sam shifted to the edge of the bed and stood, stretching once more in the morning light. Padding over to the door, still naked in the warm apartment he peered around the partially open door and saw Dean cross the end of the hallway. Sam pushed the door open slowly and moved down the hall quietly; fingers curled around the wall at the end of the hallway Sam watched Dean moving around the kitchen.

He was dressed in his boxers and the t-shirt Sam had been wearing the day before. Grinning, Sam stepped out into the bright light of the kitchen and slipped up behind Dean quietly. "You look good," he murmured against Dean's ear.

Leaning back into him Dean smiled softly, half turning to stare up at Sam. His smile grew as he realized the man was naked. It was very like Sam to go without clothes. "Good morning," he murmured and brushed their lips together, cupping Sam's jaw and deepening the kiss for a moment before sliding back. "How did you sleep?" Dean asked quietly, tracing Sam's collarbone down his chest.

"Perfect," Sam rubbed his lips across Dean's forehead, "best sleep I've had since you left me." Tilting his head Sam wandered over to the door of the fridge and poked at the fridge magnets that were there.

"Did you have some breakfast?" Sam wandered along the kitchen counter, pulling his fingers along the edge behind him. When he got to the stove he reached out to touch the top where the red element was on under the corning-ware top.

"Don't touch that." Dean stepped forward quickly and bat the man's hand away. "That's hot. I'm going to be cooking eggs on it," Dean couldn't help the small smile on his face as he shifted forward to get the pan he would be using.

"It's a stove, I'm sure you read about that in at least one of your books. Do you like eggs? I suppose you probably haven't had chicken eggs at least," Dean frowned slightly, considering all the things Sam wouldn't know about.

Sam yanked his hand back and slipped it behind his back for a moment, "I thought stoves had burners... like coils..." He moved over to the side of the kitchen counter and opened the bread box, poked at the loaf inside then closed it.

"I've never had a chicken egg. Do you have a toaster?" Sam picked up a pepper grinder and shook it - looking puzzled he eventually twisted the top then sniffed the specks of black that had fallen into his hand. He sneezed and knocked his hip into the counter.

Stifling a laugh Dean laid his fingers over his lips and watched Sam. "I do have a toaster, along with a coffee maker though I think _that_ might be a little much for you now," Dean smiled and turned to the fridge. "How about fresh orange juice? Why don't you grab a glass, they're in that cabinet." Dean pointed toward the cabinet near Sam and tugged the fridge open. "I have grape juice too if you'd rather have that."

"Will I like grapes?" Sam opened the cupboard, pulled out two glasses and took them over to Dean. "Is coffee good? I've read about it ... people have it to wake up and when they're hung over. Do you have beer?" Sam grinned and pressed up against his lover's back, resting his chin on Dean's shoulder to watch him cook the eggs.

Laughing softly Dean leaned into Sam's body and turned to pour one glass with a small amount of grape juice. "Coffee has a lot of caffeine, it takes a bit of time to get used to but you can try mine if you'd like, in the meantime..." Dean held up the small glass of grape juice for Sam to take. "And yes, I have beer. You've tried it before?" Dean asked curiously.

Sam nodded, hair flicking against Dean's cheek. Sam's finger curled around the glass of grape juice and he sniffed it as he unwound from Dean's back. Taking a quick drink he smiled. "I like grape juice. Can I try orange now?" Padding back over to the cupboard Sam got another glass and walked back to hand it to Dean.

"It'll be a little stronger," Dean warned and poured Sam some orange juice, half turning to cheeks the eggs. "We'll try this scrambled to be safe. Want a granola bar?" He asked with a smile, remembering how much Sam enjoyed them.

"Yes, please." Sam tasted the orange juice and squeezed his eyes shut and wrinkled his nose. Wiping his mouth behind Dean's back he left the glass on the counter. "You can have that."

Sam picked up his grape juice and wandered over to the fridge to pull the door open. Poking at things on the top shelf Sam slid them back as he read what was on them, eyes drawn to all the different labels and logos on the containers. He picked up a strawberry and sniffed it, then put it back - it smelled the same as the ones he'd found growing wild sometimes.

Closing the door gently, Sam wandered back over to Dean and slid his arm around his shoulders, eyes riveted on the eggs. "Can we have toast? I've never had toast in a toaster. Only made on a stick over the stove. Scratching at his chest absentmindedly Sam leaned his head against Dean’s. "Do you have to go out today?"

After so many months of being alone in his apartment, having company, _Sam's_ company, was etching the smile on his face permanently. "We can have toast. And no, I'm yours all day. I'll start showing you things." Dean chuckled softly, shaking his head as he thought about all the things Sam would have to learn to function in this world.

"Hey," Dean turned off the stove and set the pan to the side, turning to the side and pulling open the breadbox and opening the bag. A moment later he held up two pieces of bread and smiled at Sam. "You wanna make the toast?"

Nodding Sam grabbed the bread and grinned ... waiting.

Tugging Sam across the kitchen Dean pulled the toaster forward and gestured to it. "Put the pieces in, one in each slot. Then you push this down and it pops up when it's done." Dean chuckled softly, touching the lever on the toaster before twisting the knob at the bottom. "If you want it darker it has to cook longer, I do mine at level four cause it's just about perfect," Dean slid back, giving Sam room and watching.

Sam followed Dean's instructions perfectly then settled his chin in his hands to watch the toaster. "Oh," he said suddenly, eyes still riveted on the toaster, "I brought my important papers that Dad kept - like my birth certificate and stuff, in case it was okay for me to ... to stay."

The toast popped and Sad jumped slightly then reached for the toast. "Ouch," he tossed it from hand to hand as he moved back over to Dean. "S'hot," he tossed it on the counter and leaned in to pressed a kiss to Dean's neck.

"Can we have sex again?" His voice was soft, lips moving softly against Dean's skin.

Dean's knees dipped, surprised as pleasure shot through him. His hands grasped Sam's softly, rubbing gently. "Yeah, we can definitely have sex again," he murmured, head falling to the side as Sam's lips moved over his neck. "Aren't you hungry? We'll need our energy. Plus toast is best hot."

Dean pulled back softly and chuckled, glancing down the length of Sam's body. "I kind of like the fact that you don't have a problem being naked in our home." He reached out to pat Sam's ass before turning to grab two plates from the cabinet and moved the toast from the counter onto them.

"I'm hungry," Sam murmured staring at Dean. "It's _your_ home..." he whispered. Sam's home was _very_ far from here - that was for certain. He sighed and padded over to retrieve his juice.

"Oh." Dean glanced at him, frowning for a moment before looking back at the food. He hadn't realized that assuming Sam would consider Dean's home, his home, was such a foolish thing but it made sense. Despite making him slightly sad.

"I have..." Dean shook his head for a moment before turning and crossing to the fridge. "Strawberry jelly or grape jelly. Some people like honey on their toast. Maybe we should just start with butter, I don't want to overload your system with too much and make you sick," Dean stared into his fridge, blinking a few times before reaching in to grab strawberry jelly for himself.

"I'll have whatever you lik.," Sam scratched at his head and took a few steps here and there following Dean as he moved around the kitchen.

"Dean?" Sam blinked over at him searching the other man's face to see how he felt, "did you think of the cabin as your home?"

Dean glanced at him for a moment before looking back at the toast, pulling a knife from the drawer and spreading jelly along both pieces. "I guess I came to think of it like that sometimes but... I always knew I was leaving, so I suppose I couldn't let myself get too attached to that idea." Dean looked up sharply, knife pausing.

"You... you're not going to leave, right? I mean... all the things you said before, I thought you'd be..." dread clawed through him at the idea, not willing to accept the prospect of loosing Sam once more.

Sam shrugged and huffed out a breath. "If I can figure out - I mean, I want to be here - I think - here as in around, in the city." Sam hadn't seen much of Houston on the way in, he'd been so tired, but so far living in civilization didn't seem to be such a bad thing.

"Dean." Sam closed the distance between them sliding his hand over the knife and pulling it from Dean's hand. "I want to be with you but I - I have to be able to take care of myself or you'll just ... you'll just hate me one day.." He slipped his hands behind Dean to slip over the cool cotton of his boxers and squeezed hard. "You can't ever hate me." He took a deep breath. "You want me to get dressed for breakfast?"

"Don't." Dean stepped out of Sam's grip and turned to him. "It distracts me." He frowned for a moment before turning to put the lid back on the jelly. "So does this mean you'll be getting your own place?" Dean hadn't even thought about the other things that came along with Sam living out among people. Sure he loved Dean _now_ but he was the only person Sam had ever been with.

There was the very real possibility that Sam could meet someone else, maybe he'd like girls just as much, and then... Dean blew out a low breath and reached for the pan of eggs, dividing them up on the two plates. "Yeah, go throw some clothes on. I'll get you some more juice."

Sam stood there blinking, hurt nipping at him. "Are ... are you mad at me for something? Did I do something wrong?" He took a couple of steps back toward the bedroom.

"No, I'm not mad at you." Dean looked at Sam and sighed softly. "I just realized... you're so new to this world and there's so many options out there. Once you get on your feet. I just don't think I'll be enough for you." Dean dipped his head and scratched along the back of his neck.

"I just spent a week trying to get to you...maybe over a week I can't even remember. Did you see me outside your door last night when I thought you weren't here?" Sam found it hard to believe that Dean couldn't see that this had all been about getting to him. Shaking his head he turned and walked back to the bedroom.

Dean sighed and finished up their plates, setting the pan in the sink before carrying both to the dining room table. He returned to the kitchen to refill Sam's juice and get himself a cup of coffee. When Sam returned from the bedroom he walked over to him, taking his hand and pulling him in.

"I know how hard it must have been to come here. And I am _so_ grateful that you did. I guess I just thought... you know, that you'd stay here. Be my boyfriend and we'd have a life together. I could never hate you, I love you too much." Dean looked up at him with soft eyes, "But I'll support whatever it is you'd like to do."

"Your boyfriend?" Sam's lips curled up into a slight smile. "Listen, I didn't say I wanted to leave here. _You_ are why I'm here. You're why I came all the way here and left behind everything, my home, my...nearly everything I own." He slid his fingers through Dean's hair. "We ... we're good together and I wanna stay here but I wanna be able to take care of _you_ too. It can't be completely one-sided, Dean."

"It won't be," Dean insisted, catching Sam's free hand and tugging him toward the table. "We'll get you accustomed to this world and then we'll figure out what you'd like to do. I have connections, we can find a good place for you to work. And I'm sure with a little studying we'll even be able to get you a GED."

Dean stopped in front of Sam's chair, smiling at him. "That will get you a job. Now let's sit and have breakfast and figure out where to begin." Dean shifted forward to brush his lips against Sam's before stepping to his own chair and pulling it out.

They settled into their meal and Dean continued smiling fondly at Sam as his _boyfriend_ once more picked up his questions, curious about the different ways to cook eggs, the taste of coffee - which was quite entertaining to watch Sam try.

There was so _much_ Sam didn't know and Dean marveled at just how much he'd have to explain and teach the man. It was almost fitting, since Sam had taught him so much before. There wasn't much that could be decided at this point as far as Sam's job, what he might do, but Dean knew they'd have time to figure it out.

It was decided that they would try to make it to the cabin at least once a year during the summer, a vacation they could both enjoy and a chance for Sam to gather himself, refocus. Never in his life had Dean been more excited about the prospect of his future. He couldn't wait for Sam to meet his mother and sister, his friends, and knew it would take a great deal of patience to ensure his boyfriend never grew uncomfortable during the time.

As Dean watched Sam eat, listened to him go into detail about his trip there, Dean's heart felt so full it ached. He knew he'd never be able to explain to Sam just how much he meant to him, how Sam being here was going to keep him going, but judging from the look in Sam's eyes, the man felt exactly the same.


End file.
